


Ruffled Feathers

by Katzedecimal



Series: Disconnected [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cannabis mention, Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Flashbacks, Gen, Nice Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spider mention, Threats of Violence, bebop, cw: Taz, cw: gabriel, graphic descriptions of spider, graphic violence in chapter 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 62,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: In stopping the Apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale had thwarted the plans of both Heaven and Hell.  That ruffled an awful lot of feathers.   The Burning Bush had told them they were to be rewarded... but as everything to do with the Almighty, there was much more to it than that.





	1. Africa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaldannan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kaldannan).



Aziraphale ran his fingers through the feathers of his wings, deep in thought. They scintillated. Once snow white, they were a warm, very pale beige and iridescent. Flecks of metallic green and blue gleamed. Metallic vermilion edged the pinions, making them glow like embers. The changes were recent, a sign of his Fall. 

He wondered about that. Crowley’s wings were black as soot, though Aziraphale thought them beautiful in their own way. But Crowley had another form, that of a snake, scarlet of belly and soot black of back. And just recently, he had become iridescent, his scales scintillating like a thousand oilslick beads. But Crowley had already Fallen, so Aziraphale was quite puzzled indeed.

If he had Fallen, why were his wings not black? Why were they iridescent? Why was Crowley suddenly iridescent? The iridescence had appeared shortly after both of them had been called before the burning bush (although Crowley had taken a fire extinguisher to his, which Aziraphale was _certain_ had to be wrong.)

He had thwarted the Apocalypse by spotting a key flaw in the logic. All that book-learning had paid off. Not to mention all that hanging around with Crowley, listening to his constant stream of questions and his expertise at rules-lawyering. One key question had bought them time and Crowley (under duress, though it pained the angel to do it to him) had drawn upon his natural protectiveness for children to inspire the Antichrist himself, then encouraged him (the Antichrist!!) to deny Satan three times. Really, the world owed an awful lot to one Serpent of Eden, Fallen and unforgivable.

That just seemed wrong, somehow. And in recent days, Crowley had revealed a good deal more details about his punishment than he had over six thousand years, and Aziraphale just _ached._ All that torture, just for asking questions? And Crowley could be kind and he cared and he was so protective of children and he’d been such a good nanny to young Warlock the not-the-Antichrist-after-all. And he’d just thwarted the Apocalypse and saved the whole of Creation. It was just _wrong._

He wondered how Crowley could ever keep forgiving _him._

He looked up at the sound of a floorboard creaking. “Angel?” Crowley said softly, “Alright?”

Aziraphale sighed and looked at his empty mug of cocoa. “Just thinking,” he sighed, “Rather too much, I imagine.”

“Go for a drive?”

The sun had gone down and it was threatening rain. Aziraphale sighed and nodded, letting his wings fade out, “I used the last of the milk.”

“We’ll get some more,” Crowley agreed. 

Aziraphale reached for his raincoat, picked up his tartan umbrella and took Crowley’s arm. “Waiting for the other shoe to fall, I suppose,” he said eventually as they walked out to the Bentley. 

Crowley nodded as he pulled the car door open, “Yeah. I don’t like not knowing what this glowing stuff means. It’s been a fortnight and nothing’s happened.” He put the car in gear and pulled out into the streets. 

He took the long way to the shop and drove sedately (well, sedately for Crowley.) Aziraphale gazed out the window, watching the world go by. The quality of his silence had changed and he seemed more resigned, if not at peace. Thunder grumbled and the clouds grew heavier. Crowley parked at the shop and Aziraphale got out, looking up at the sky before deciding to take his umbrella along. 

They picked up milk, biscuits, tea, and another tin of cocoa just because. Crowley frowned and licked his lips a few times. Aziraphale glanced at him then took the groceries to the till. Crowley licked his lips again and Aziraphale glanced out the shop window, spotted with the first drops of rain. He inhaled as he picked up the shopping bag and cast another glance at Crowley. Crowley lowered his chin slowly. 

“There’s four of them,” Crowley said quietly. They walked towards the shop door, noticing as shadows moved on the surrounding buildings. “Soon be ten.”

“All demons?”

“Smells like it. Guess someone didn’t get the message.”

“Or decided there’s safety in numbers,” Aziraphale said. They stepped outside, stopping under the shop’s awning. Aziraphale sighted on the Bentley, measuring the distance between it and them. He watched as dark figures started sauntering towards them, not doing nearly as impressive a job of it as Crowley did. He had to admit, Crowley had elevated sauntering to a fine art. Must be the snake in him. “I can handle this,” he said, “Just have to hold them off for a few minutes.”

Crowley frowned at him, “Oh and what are you going to hold them off with, a packet of biscuits?” Aziraphale smiled mildly and tapped his umbrella. “Oh please. These are demons, Angel, what’re you going to do, whack them with it?”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Aziraphale said calmly and pleasantly. Much too calmly and pleasantly, considering there were twelve demon thugs approaching them from all sides. “I just need to keep them at bay for a few minutes. But I will need you to get into my coat, my dear. You will need to be very quick about it. This is surely being watched and I don’t want them to work out what’s happened.”

“What’s happened?” Crowley asked suspiciously. One of the thugs called “Crowwww-leeeeey!” in a way that made Crowley’s lip curl. 

“Oh and be a dear and zap the memories of any onlookers, will you? I really don’t want anyone remembering this.”

“It doesn’t work on demons.”

“It won’t have to.”

“Y’out with your wee boyfriend, Crowley?” “We’re not real happy with you, Crowley.” “He looks mighty tasty!”

“D’you lot not remember what happened?” Crowley called, “What I can do? D’you **really** think that’s the end of it?”

Aziraphale looked up, feeling the rain that was starting to quicken. Further down the street, a dense curtain was approaching as the storm’s core advanced. “I think I should warn you that I’m armed,” he called.

“With what, a brolly? What’re you gonna do, poke us with it?”

“No.” Aziraphale arched an eyebrow at Crowley. The umbrella burst into flames and he grinned. “But I will smite you with it.”

The demon thugs looked uncertain in the face of a flaming umbrella. Flaming swords they knew about; flaming umbrellas they were unprepared for. Then a few decided to chance it.

Aziraphale was soft. He preferred to lead a quiet life as a bookseller, indulging in good food, fine wine, and the company of his beloved best friend and partner. He was also a Principality, meant to command a garrison of Heaven’s warriors and trained for the post. He could smite like nobody’s business. 

“Ow!” “Fuck! That hurt!” The demon thugs quickly learned that the holy fire of divine wrath hurt just as much from a flaming umbrella. Aziraphale smote another one mightily, keeping an eye on the rain.

The demons danced back, eyeing him warily as they figured out their next move. “Crowley, when I say - into my coat, _quickly._ ”

“Why, what are you-” Crowley broke off as he abruptly realized, “Oh!” He lunged at Aziraphale, changing his form and diving into his coat, shrinking himself as small as he could manage to try to fit into the angel’s waistcoat pocket.

“Don’t even think about peeking,” Aziraphale said. He set the umbrella and the shopping bag down. “Remember we used to joke that David Paich wasn’t holy enough?”

“You’re not actually going to…”

The storm core broke over them and Aziraphale nodded, “I am.” 

The demons rushed him through the sudden downpour. Aziraphale lifted his arms to the heavens and blessed the rain.

* * * *

It took ten minutes for the last echo of the screams to fade away. Aziraphale had watched the entire ordeal from under his unscorched umbrella, tears rolling down his expressionless face. He really didn’t like having to kill anything, not even demons (especially not demons) but… He sighed and wiped his face. He picked up the shopping and set off quickly towards the Bentley. “Don’t even think about coming out,” he told his waistcoat.

“Okay that was really impressive and also terrifying,” came the voice from his pocket.

“Open,” Aziraphale told the car, then shook his head, “Right, wrong side.” He walked around it to the driver’s side.

“Hang on, you can’t drive!”

“I’ve watched you often enough,” Aziraphale said, opening the door and throwing the bag and umbrella in.

“There’s more to it than that!”

“Don’t argue with me!” Aziraphale barked, “You move from there and we won’t be having this conversation!”

“Yes, angel,” the snake said meekly. 

“Right,” Aziraphale sighed. Crowley had the keys. Currently, Crowley was a snake in his pocket. “Alright, you. I know you can hear me,” he told the Bentley, “I am taking us home and you’re going to help me, and you won’t pull any funny stuff like slipping your clutch or taking the corners too fast because I am soaked in holy water and your master is in my pocket, so if you do any of that stuff, you risk it dripping onto him and that would not be a good situation for any of us. Right?” The Bentley started itself. Aziraphale smiled grimly and set his hands on the wheel, “Right. Now off we go.”

It was the slowest the Bentley had ever driven in its ninety year life. Also the politest. It obeyed all signs and signals, used its blinkers, didn’t jam its pedals or rev its engine or do any of the little annoyances it used to nettle Crowley. It even played Brahms. “You didn’t have to go that far,” Aziraphale told it, “I quite like Queen.” Nevertheless it parked itself perfectly and seemed rather relieved when Aziraphale finally got out. “Don’t let him in until you’re thoroughly dry,” he told it. The Bentley flashed its hazard lights in reply. 

Back in the bookstore, he carefully slipped off his raincoat and hung it up to dry, then frowned at his wet trousers. He glanced at the spread of floor between the door and the staircase to the flat upstairs and shook his head - not worth the risk. Instead he miracled himself his flannel pajama bottoms and a towel for his wet hair. Satisfied that he was dry enough to cross the floor safely, he went to the back room to slip his gloves on to protect from any dampness remaining on his hands. Then, finally, he reached into his waistcoat pocket and gently lifted out the tiny black red-bellied snake curled up within. “Are you hurt?” he asked gently. Crowley didn’t move or reply. “Did you fall asleep??” A slow smile spread over Aziraphale’s face, endeared by the level of trust Crowley had in him. 

He was looking for the cushion Crowley usually snaked out on but felt the snake twitch then raise his head sleepily, “Hm? Are we home? Must’ve dozed off.”

“Yes, apparently being millimetres away from holy water does not deter you,” Aziraphale teased him gently, “Are you hurt?”

“Not at all,” Crowley said. He changed back to his usual self and gazed at his angel. His angel who did not like to fight, who had no heart for war, “What about you?”

Aziraphale took too long to answer. “That’s going to happen again, isn’t it,” he whispered.


	2. Dog and Pony Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Wednesday morning, Aziraphale opened the shop. He’d just flipped the sign to Open and was walking back to make a cup of tea when he realized he had a customer. Which was odd because the door hadn’t opened.

On Wednesday morning, Aziraphale opened the shop. He’d just flipped the sign to Open and was walking back to make a cup of tea when he realized he had a customer. Which was odd because the door hadn’t opened. 

There was a person standing in the foyer in front of the door, holding a piece of paper and looking around at the store. Occasionally they looked at the paper then back at the store, so clearly they were after something specific and had been advised to come to A.Z. Fell & Company. Aziraphale was about to go and greet them when he noticed Crowley standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking rather tense. 

Aziraphale looked back at the customer. They looked, for the most part, rather ordinary. They wore a hoodie over jeans with plain walking shoes. Their hair was black and medium length. They were of medium height and medium weight. It was difficult to decide what gender they were, as well as what race. The hair could have been strands or microlocs. Crowley had begun to approach the person, licking his lips frequently as he circled broadly around. The person watched him with curiosity. It was when Crowley walked behind a bookshelf that Aziraphale realized he hadn’t been licking his lips, he’d been tasting the air. Scenting. Something was off. 

Crowley reappeared at the top of the bookshelf. His sense of smell was much better as a snake and he was showing every sign of not liking what he was scenting. The person smiled at him. That wasn’t unusual, many people liked snakes these days and Crowley had a small fandom of curiosity seekers who came to the bookstore purely in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the snake. But right now, Crowley looked as though he wished his tail had a rattle he could shake. “Stay back, Angel,” he whispered.

Aziraphale stood frozen because he’d smelled it too. Whoever this customer was, they weren’t human.

The person looked at him, tapped the folded paper against their palm, and smiled. “Well… This must be the place.”

Crowley leaned a good portion of himself down from the bookshelf, out in front of his angel. His mouth gaped, showing his fangs. “I thought we told you lot to leave us alone,” he hissed. 

The person looked at him and gasped, “You look like… Are you the Black Snake?”

Crowley looked taken aback, “What?”

“The Protector?” they said excitedly, “The Black Snake who saved the orphan tribe from the Great Flood?”

“Who’s asking?”

“ **You’re** the Snake who plugged the hole in the Ark and saved everyone on board?? _Oh my God_ I’ve got your statue!!”

“ _How do you know about that?_ ” Crowley hissed, abruptly agitated, “ **Nobody** knows about that, not even _him!_ ”

“I… I might know a little bit about that,” Aziraphale admitted. 

“What?? I never told you!”

“I might have read about it. In a book. If it helps, I didn’t realize it was about you.”

“It does _not_ help!” Crowley snapped back, “ _Nobody_ knows about that.” He swung back to their guest, “How do _you_ know?”

“The tribe remembered,” the person said, “And I have connections with the tribe.”

Crowley’s head wove closer to Aziraphale and glared at the customer, “Well that’s all very nice, but really not relevant right now. We told you lot to leave us alone and we’re quite serious about that.”

“We’re closed,” Aziraphale said firmly, “Whoever you are, I can tell you’re very powerful but I feel I must warn you that I can smite with a book quite effectively,” Fortunately snakes can’t roll their eyes, not even Crowley.

The person smiled and bowed slightly, “Tawuse Melek,” They waited. 

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other blankly. “Sorry, who?”

“Tawuse Melek. Peacock Angel?”

“Sorry.”

“Never heard of you.” 

“What, really? The Forgiven?”

“That joke is in extremely poor taste,” Aziraphale snapped at the same time as Crowley hissed, “ _Get out._ ”

The customer blinked. “What? They don’t talk about me at all? What, not even Lucy? Surely Lucy’s mentioned me a few times, he hates me!”

Crowley tipped his head in lieu of frowning, “’Lucy’? You mean Lucifer?”

“Yeah, I’m his twin,” they said, “People were always getting us mixed up.”

“His _twin_?”

“Is there an echo in here?”

“If you’re his twin, why does he hate you?”

“Well, partly because I took over his purview when he was cast down, but mostly because I keep calling him Lucy.”

Aziraphale shrugged, “I suppose that would do it.”

“What was his purview?” Crowley asked. 

They smiled, “Light. Knowledge. Wisdom. Enlightenment.”

Crowley glanced back at Aziraphale, then back at the person. “If you’re an angel, why do you smell of demon?”

“And if you **are** an angel, why have I not heard of you?” Aziraphale added, “Believe me, I **know** the ranks of Heaven.”

“He really does.”

The customer sighed. “You’re going to make me do the dog and pony show, aren’t you. I hate the dog and pony show.”

“Yeah we really need the dog and pony show,” Crowley drawled. 

“What’s a dog and p-”

“Shh.”

The person touched their middle fingers to their temples and drew their hands down, drawing reality away. Aziraphale opened his eyes to see sand in all directions and he flexed his wings gratefully. They shone iridescent in the light. Crowley coiled around his neck and shoulders, looped around his chest, hovering protectively in front of him. His iridescent scales gleamed even more beautifully here than they were on Earth. 

Slowly, they looked up. And up. And up. Because the entity towered, wrapped in an iridescent cloak covering them from feet to face. The cloak shivered, and three pairs of wings, feathered with iridescent black and fiery vermilion, opened with the sound of thunderclaps. The entity’s copper armour glowed and crackled with plasma. A fauld skirt of peacock tail feathers shone, on which rested a coil of shining copper cable. The entity’s eyes crackled with fire and plasma, and a disc of fire burned on their forehead. Their skin, what they could see of it through the plasma, was indigo. A celestial bow was slung across their shoulder and they held a sword of flame. Their halo spread out around them like a peacock’s tail. Aziraphale shuddered and slowly lowered himself to one knee, “Your Excellency.”

“No,” said Crowley in a strangled voice, “You can’t have him. You’re not taking him.” 

“Crowley, that’s a _Seraph!_ ” Aziraphale whispered frantically.

“I know and I’m not sure I can fight them but I’m bloody well going to try!” He bared his fangs at the Seraph, dripping venom, and screamed, “You are not throwing him into any sulphur lakes!”

Aziraphale stared at him, “Crowley…”

“Oh my Godddd!” the Seraph squealed, “Oh my God look at that! He loves you so much!”

“What?”

“What?” This confused Crowley so much, he shifted into his true form.

Aziraphale gasped, “Crowley, your wings…!”

Crowley glanced at him, then looked back and gaped. His soot black wings were now iridescent as oilslick beads, scintillating with metallic greens, coppers and blues, the edges of the pinions glowing with vermilion. The same shade of vermilion that edged Aziraphale’s wings. The same shade of vermilion as the pinions of the Seraph. They looked back at the Seraph, decked in the iridescence of a peacock.

“Ohhh, I see,” The Seraph smiled at Crowley in sympathy. “Be at ease, valiant protector, Black Snake of the Ark,” they said gently, “No harm will come to either of you from me. That’s not why I’m here. I was asked to take you in.”

“By whom?” Aziraphale demanded. In answer, the Seraph extended the piece of paper. Aziraphale unfolded it and read. It’d been so long since he’d read Enochian but he recognised the seal immediately. He looked at Crowley. “You said She said She had a new job for us,” he said quietly.

“That’s right,” the Seraph said brightly, “I’m your new boss!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a few notes because I'm mixing up real legends with fanon and my own deranged imaginings, so it's good to clarify which is which.
> 
> Melek Taus (aka Tawuse Melek, Tawus Malak, and similar), aka the Peacock Angel, is a little-known but real angel (real as in I didn't make this up.) He is associated primarily with the Yazidi people, who view him as the protector of Earth, having been given custody of it by God. The Yazidi do not deny that Melek Taus is the angel known as Lucifer to the other Abrahamic religions, but they believe that he was redeemed and reconciled with God. I'll write more about that in the notes for a later chapter. 
> 
> Lucifer was originally an angel of light and enlightenment. For the purposes of fic, I have made Melek Taus and Lucifer twins, instead of the same entity, and given Melek Taus the purview of Lucifer. 
> 
> The Black Snake is also a figure in Yazidi folklore and a sculpture of him decorates the Yazidi temple. The Black Snake is not explicitly associated with Melek Taus, nor explicitly associated with the Serpent of Eden, but the possibilities were too good to resist. The legend of the hole in the Ark is a real Yazidi legend. The story of rescuing the orphans is Ineffable Fanon (there are some great stories about that here on AO3 and on Tumblr!) but too good to resist, especially with the Yazidi legend. More about the statue in later chapters.


	3. A Handy And Enlightening Recap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is this Black Snake that Tawuse Melek is such a fan of? Turns out Crowley's been quite a bit busier than Aziraphale realized.
> 
> *Also, Gabriel is a thieving bitch ;)

“Sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

“Tawuse Melek,” the Seraph replied, “It’s more of a title. It means Peacock Angel.”

They were back in the bookshop and back in their Earthly forms. They were seated around a table and Aziraphale had brought out his finest tea in the best china. He wasn’t sure what the current protocol was for changing angelic ranks but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t offend. “And was that… was that a _Cat-6_ data cable on your armour?” Crowley continued. 

The Seraph shook their head, “Hybrid optical fibre with copper cladding. Really strong, I can restrain just about anything with that.”

“My lot don’t even know what a computer is and you’re wearing a _data cable_ as some kind of of lariat?”

“Oh yeah!” Tawuse enthused, “I’m all about information technology, me! A wonderful way to distribute knowledge, humans are so clever!”

“And you had a flaming sword?” Crowley glanced significantly at Aziraphale, who shifted uncomfortably.

Tawuse nodded, “Yeah, flaming sword of Truth, cuts and cauterizes, leaves a cleaner wound.”

“I thought there was only the one?” Crowley said.

“What d’you mean?” the Seraph said, puzzled, “I’d forged a second one when I was promised a Principality to assist me. I sent the sword along but the angel never showed up.”

Aziraphale looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole, “Um… Um… I was… I was told to go and guard the eastern gate of Eden.”

“What? By whom?”

“The Archangel Gabriel. I was told I had to report to him.”

The Seraph slammed their hand onto the table, “That _bitch_ , he stole my Principality!”* Crowley burst out laughing. “So when did you see the sword? You mentioned it, you said you thought there was only the one so you must have seen it somewhere.”

“Um… Um… Um… I, uh… I… I gave it away,” Aziraphale admitted, “To the humans. When they were driven from Eden.” 

Tawuse gaped for a moment then burst into hysterical laughter. “You gave them a flaming sword of Truth??”

Aziraphale squirmed and tried to shrink, “Um, I… Nobody told me it was a sword of truth. They just gave me the sword and said here you go, go guard the east gate.” He felt Crowley’s hand rest upon his knee and rub comfortingly.

Tawuse had covered their face with their hands and was just about howling with laughter. “Oh my God!” they hooted, “You gave the sword of Truth to the humans! That explains **so much!** ”

Aziraphale clutched Crowley’s hand in anxiety. “Relax, Angel,” Crowley murmured, “They wouldn’t be laughing like this if you were in trouble.”

Tawuse’s head snapped up. “What? No no! No no no no no! No trouble!” they said, waving their hands frantically, “It’s just… That’s one of those ‘came out of left field’ things.”

”Wrong?”

“Not _wrong_ , per se,” Tawuse laughed, ”It wasn’t _quite_ what I had planned but, whatever.”

“Well, I mean it’s the sort of thing that’ll happen when some **bitch** usurps someone else’s angel and starts giving out swords he had no business intercepting with no idea what they were for,” Crowley drawled, making Tawuse laugh again. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, chuckling, “It was a sword of truth… Oh _wow_. And I gave them the apple…!”

“Apple?”

“Yeah, an apple from that tree at the centre of the garden, tree of knowledge of good and evil. That didn’t go over well. It got them evicted. I still think that was too harsh.”

“What? That was a gift!” Tawuse blurted.

“You what?”

“That was my gift to the humans! And they made it off-limits?! What on earth for?!”

Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, “I still don’t see what was so wrong about it.” Aziraphale shrugged.

“Well, **no,** I mean, have you seen little kids, the ones who haven’t learned yet? Without the knowledge of good and evil, they’re pulling wings off of flies!”

“Oh I know, you should hear Beelzebub complain about it,” Crowley agreed.

“So… they were **supposed** to have the apple?” Aziraphale said a little hesitantly.

“That was **my** intention, yes,” Tawuse nodded, “So, Black Snake, you gave them the apple and then, what, you, you gave them the sword of truth?”

Aziraphale nodded very meekly. Crowley grinned, “That was how we met!”

Aziraphale nodded, relieved to move the topic away, “Gave me a start, really. Suddenly this demon turns up and I’d just given away my sword. Turned out he just wanted to chat. Vent a bit, really.”

Crowley turned to give him a very fond smile, “And then he sheltered me from the rain.” 

Aziraphale smiled mistily and took his hand. The energy and long silence between them was broken by Tawuse squealing and pattering their feet against the floor, “Aaaah you two are so cute, I can’t even! So you’ve been together ever since?”

“No,” Aziraphale admitted sadly, “Unfortunately my side have very strict rules about that.”

“Ooo yeah, big on the caste system too, aren’t they? For beings made of love, they sure do like dictating who gets to share it with whom,” Tawuse said sympathetically, “Well, you’re on my side now. I mean, it’s obvious you two adore each other.” A thought struck them, “Hey, were **you** the angel observer that the Black Snake convinced to look away?”

Crowley groaned, “Oh _please…_ ”

“Sorry, what?” Aziraphale leaned forward, “I want to hear these Black Snake stories.”

“I will smite you!” said Crowley.

“Yeah, on the Ark, the legend says that the Black Snake gathered together the orphan children and hid with them in the hold of the Ark, but the angel sent to observe the destruction found them. The Black Snake pleaded with the angel to turn his eyes away. The angel agreed and the children were saved.”

“That’s not _quite_ how I remember it but that’s about the bones of it, yes,” Aziraphale nodded, “He wasn’t snake-shaped for that conversation, though. But what about the hole?”

“Scratch that, I will **bite** you!”

“The legend says the Ark ground against a mountain hidden under the floodwaters and the sharp rocks tore a hole in the hull. The Black Snake plugged the hole with his own body and kept the Ark afloat and saved everything in the hold from drowning.”

Aziraphale gazed at Crowley and took his hand between his own. “My dear, you never told me about this,” he said softly.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble I’d’ve gotten into if that got out?” Crowley grated. 

Aziraphale smiled and squeezed his hand. “You said you have his statue?” he asked Tawuse.

“A copy, yes,” Tawuse clapped their hands once and drew them apart, manifesting an image of the statue between them. 

Aziraphale stared at it, incredulous. Crowley was refusing to look at it. “Well,” Aziraphale cleared his throat, “I can see why you recognised him. They captured his expression perfectly.” Crowley yelped. “And his hair, though he… doesn’t usually have hair when he’s a snake,” Aziraphale stared at it for a few more moments before finally blurting out, “But why does he have ears?”

Tawuse burst out laughing again, “I know, right?? Out of context, it looks ridiculous, that’s one of the reasons I love it so much!” Crowley growled. “The Black Snake was worshipped by several of the tribes that grew out of the group of orphans he saved. The thing is, among them, not everyone has the… virtue, I suppose, to pray to God, but the Black Snake would always listen. The legends say that the Black Snake was once an angel who hung the stars, but after the great rebellion in Heaven, grew enraged by the way the hosts of Heaven had tortured their Fallen brethren, and was moved by his great compassion to Fall with them and became the Black Snake.”

“Oh I **wish** it had happened like that,” Crowley grumbled. 

Tawuse smiled, “That’s why the Black Snake would listen to all who supplicated him. He was known to them as the Messiah of the Weak.”

A thought pinged at Aziraphale’s mind, “Whenabouts was this statue made?”

“Around the second century CE,” Tawuse nodded, “The legends go back quite a bit longer.”

Aziraphale turned to grin at Crowley, “I seem to recall you begging a couple of Heavenly miracles off me around then.”

“And before,” Crowley admitted.

“Answering some prayers?”

“It’s not like anybody else was answering them.”

Aziraphale just smiled, though his eyes looked a little misty. “’Messiah of the Weak?’” he squeezed Crowley’s hand again and chuckled, “You wily old serpent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Literally the line that launched this whole fic ^_^
> 
> Okay, time for more sorting out genuine legend from fanon from Katze's making-things-up-again ^_~
> 
> Melek Taus did not give the tree of knowledge of good and evil to Eden; I made that up, stemming from the purview of knowledge, light, and enlightenment. 
> 
> Crowley saving children in the hold of the Ark and convincing Aziraphale to look away, that's fanon, wonderful fanon. The Black Snake curling his body into a ball to plug a hole in the Ark, that's a [genuine Yazidi legend.](http://www.personal.ceu.hu/students/09/Eszter_Spat/Mararesh.htm) Needless to say, the two go together well.
> 
> The statue of [Glycon](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glycon). I have Diane Duane to thank for this, she reblogged it screaming "IT'S CROWLEY" and I laughed a solid ten minutes because damn son. I had to find a place for that somewhere and here it is, as Black Snake fan art XD 
> 
> Crowley, the Black Snake, and the Messiah of the Weak. Okay here's where it gets really messy. Crowley's backstory matches that of a genuine Book of Enoch angel who became known as the Messiah of the Weak, who will be named in a later chapter. The Black Snake and Glycon don't actually have anything to do with each other, nor does Glycon have anything to do with the "Messiah of the Weak" angel. But it all works so well together!
> 
> I live on Pillowfort and Twitter these days. I still crosspost to my Tumblr but I don't do much else there anymore.


	4. Bossa Nova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the new boss, not quite the same as the old boss. Aziraphale and Crowley learn more about Tawuse Melek, and Tawuse Melek has _so many questions_ about Aziraphale and Crowley.

“This is great! I finally get my angel **and** I get the Black Snake on my team yayyy!” Tawuse pattered their feet against the floor again. Clearly they were a great fan of the Black Snake.

“Yeah, about that,” Crowley drawled, “None of this changes the fact that we’ve never heard of you. And why do you smell like a demon?”

“I’m Fallen,” Tawuse said simply. 

“ **I’ve** never seen you Downstairs. I know why Lucifer Fell; what did you do?”

“Passed a test,” they said, “The first order the Almighty gave was that we not bow to other beings.” Crowley and Aziraphale both nodded. “Then She created the humans and ordered that we bow to them.”

Aziraphale frowned, “But that conflicts with the first order. You can’t obey the second order without disobeying the first.”

“ **Exactly** ,”Tawuse nodded, “That’s what I said.”

“So… how did that make you Fall?”

“Because I was the only one. All the other archangels obeyed without a thought.”

Crowley snickered, “Sounds like them.”

“Mm-hmm. And when they figured it out, they didn’t like that.”

Abruptly Crowley understood. “They didn’t want anyone to find out. They threw you down so no one else would know.”

Tawuse nodded, “The reason you didn’t see me is the same reason I didn’t see you - I wasn’t Downstairs, I’ve been out in the world, the same as you.”

“Doing what?”

“Teaching. Inspiring. Investigating. I wasn’t giving up my purview, not after that. Not when it was clearly needed.”

“And your purview is knowledge and enlightenment,” Crowley mused.

“After the West got so hostile, I found a lot of work in the East. I wasn’t sticking around Downstairs, I’m not impressed with how Lucy’s been running things.”

“You said he hates you?”

“We’re twins,” Tawuse smirked mirthlessly, “I passed; he failed. He Fell; I was thrown. I was Forgiven; he wasn’t. How well do you think **that** went over?”

“Like a lead balloon,” Crowley agreed.

“But the Almighty **doesn’t** forgive those who have Fallen from Her Grace,” Aziraphale interjected. He glanced at Crowley and admitted, “I have a bit of a problem with that.”

Tawuse nodded, “It’s a comparatively recent phenomenon.”

“Around two hundred and sixty years,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale stared at him, “Wh-? How did you work that out?”

Crowley stared at Tawuse, “That was around the time of the First Industrial Revolution. Probably a little bit earlier, you’d have needed some time to get the ball rolling, but it’s been going like gangbusters ever since. The spread of knowledge has been taking place faster than ever before. We’re in the Information Age now, that’s why you have that cable. So why then? Humans have had thousands of years to develop technologies, why did it start then and why all at once, practically? Because you finally got God’s seal of approval.”

Tawuse looked at Aziraphale and pointed at Crowley, “I **like** this guy!”

Aziraphale looked fondly at his best friend, “He is _very_ clever. I’ve always said so.”

“Humans are wonderfully gifted at technology. I seem to have a knack for figuring out how to apply it, mostly, pointing out new directions and things like that. I suggested that the Second Coming use that new television technology to spread his message. That worked out very well.”

Aziraphale sat up, “What? The Second Coming is _here_? Already?”

Tawuse blinked, “Yeah, he even managed not to get murdered this time. You didn’t notice?”

“He’s _gone_?”

“Yeah, he made it to just shy of seventy-five this time. Wonderful man, used the television brilliantly and made a large part of the world into his neighbourhood.”

Crowley slammed his hands onto the table, “ _ **That guy?!?**_ _That guy_ was the Second Coming of Christ?!”

“You couldn’t tell??”

Crowley slumped back into his chair and stared at the ceiling, “I met him in an elevator once!”

“I’m afraid I was left out of the loop for that,” Aziraphale said, clearly nettled by it. “He did come into the book store once,” he leaned towards Crowley and admitted, “I sold him a book.”

Crowley jerked back and stared at him over the tops of his sunglasses, “Did you really?!” He shook his head and smiled fondly at his angel, “That’s a miracle right there!” They laughed. He looked back at Tawuse, “You said you have a team?”

“A small one, there’s not a lot of us. A few other disaffected angels and Fallen, some saints and a few prophets. The people who work with me are few but they tend to stand out. People are starting to figure out about the angel Keanu.”

“You have saints?”

Tawuse nodded, “One of my favourites died a few years ago. She had a knack for using the social media and convention gatherings to reach out to thousands of suffering people. She used her own suffering to connect with theirs and inspired them to keep going, even as she did. The humans have appointed her their unofficial saint of mental illness.”

Crowley blinked a few times, “As in…? Did she have a dog? If it’s the one I’m thinking of, I hate to tell you but she was a cocaine addict among other things.”

Tawuse snorted. “My saints aren’t _virtuous_ , Black Snake. They inspire others. They shine.”

“I can’t argue that,” Crowley nodded, “I met her, too.” He looked over at Aziraphale, “Remember that convention we took Warlock to? The lady with the dog who walked up to us and put glitter on our faces?”

“Oh, yes!” Aziraphale nodded, “I remember she never spoke a word to either of us.”

Tawuse grinned, “Yep, that was her.”

Crowley then asked the question he’d been… not wanting to ask, “So, what’s the job?”

Tawuse took out a tablet and stylus and tapped it, “Well, Herself said She wants you protected and rewarded, so…”

“Wait, ‘protected?’”

Tawuse glanced up and cocked an eyebrow, “Because you two, _you’ve_ passed a test.”

Crowley sucked in a breath.

“The Apocalypse?” Aziraphale asked, “The Apocalypse was a test?”

“Not exactly, but the ‘Great Plan’ _was._ ”

“A test of words. A test of semantics,” Crowley mused, “And you and I passed it.”

“And the Archangels and Archdemons didn’t,” Aziraphale realized.

“ _Again,_ ” Tawuse said seriously, “And they’ve got ten million angels and demons each, they have a **strongly** vested interest in making sure none of them find out about it.”

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other. “So that was just a warning shot the other night.”

“What? What happened?” Tawuse stared while they explained the event of the twelve demon thugs. “You turned the whole storm into _holy water_?” Then they doubled over laughing.

Crowley beamed at his angel, “Yeah I thought it was pretty brilliant, too.”

“Okay, yeah, that was good, I like that, very outside the box,” Tawuse wiped their eyes, “That’ll definitely give them something to think about.”

“It’s not over, is it,” Aziraphale said quietly.

Tawuse shook their head. “The leadership have **a lot** at stake. They’ll wait a while, wait until you’ve let your guard down,” Tawuse said, “Wait until you think it’s all blown over. Then they’ll try again. Meanwhile, they’ll try to soften you up.”

“’Soften us up?’” Crowley said.

“They’ll try to cut you off from the source. It’ll get harder to do miracles, and they’re counting on you going it alone, with no backup. Now I’m pretty powerful-” Crowley and Aziraphale both nodded. “Not just because I’m a Seraph but because of my purview and the way it’s grown. The best way to protect you is to empower you so you can protect yourselves. Once you’re linked in through me, you won’t have a problem, and they won’t be expecting it. The nature of your miracles may change a little but probably not too much. I’m told the source feels a little different but you get used to it pretty quickly.”

“So… What does that mean for us? Is he still an angel? Am I still a demon?”

“Yes and no,” Tawuse said, “You’ve both been removed from your rosters and transferred to mine. In effect, Black Snake, you’re a little bit blessed, and you, Pilfered Principality, are a little bit damned. More like darned. Maybe danged.” They took out a small object and tapped Aziraphale’s forehead with it.

“What’s that?”

They opened their palm and grinned, “Darning egg. It’s your pun-ishment.” Crowley groaned. “So what do you guys do, what have you been doing for the past 6000 years?”

“As little as possible,” Crowley admitted, grinning over at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Pretty much. We’d get assigned to go somewhere and do something and we’d… find ways to avoid doing it.”

“Or failing that, do some creative interpretation,” Crowley agreed, “And we had an Arrangement over several hundred years that saved a lot of wasted time, effort, and travel expenses.”

“True,” Aziraphale nodded.

“We were just cancelling each other out with both of us blessing and tempting, so why bother? So we’d flip for it. He got really creative in the Seventies. The Hustle? - yeah that was his fault.” Aziraphale grinned and waved. “He did it again in the Nineties with the Macarena.”

“But _Baby Shark_ is his fault.”

“Yeah, I’m proud of that one.”

“That came out of your nannying days, didn’t it?”

“Yeah! I got a commendation for it, too.”

“Crowley, they give you commendations for breathing.”

“Oh shut up, they do not.”

“That lot give out commendations for just any old thing.”

“Why, angel, you jealous?”

“Perhaps. Six thousand years and I got _one_ medal. **One.** I don’t even think it’s real gold, to be honest, I think it might be plastic.”

“It was 1800, how could it be plastic?”

“Well, I’m quite certain it’s not brass.”

Tawuse looked up from their notes and giggling, “Okay, so now what do you _actually_ do? Hoarding books and protecting children, anything else?”

“Well, we… dine out rather a lot.”

“I grow plants.”

Tawuse had been a demon once. “So, like, what, you run a weed dispensary?”

“No, that was him.”

Aziraphale grinned and waved again, “In my defence, I **was** following orders at the time. Mr. Dowling was quite specific. He even had a greenhouse specially outfitted.”

“Yes but did you have to use _my flat_ for finishing?”

“You weren’t using it, you were living at the Dowling estate in the nanny suite.”

“ _My flat_ , Aziraphale!”

“There were already three other grow-ops in the building, it’s not like anyone would have noticed. Anyways, I did ask you.”

“Yeah, but I heard ‘oh Crowley, can I keep some plants at your place’ and not ‘I’m gonna finish Tad Dowling’s marijuana at your flat, d’you mind much?’”

“Well, it being against the law, I figured you’d be all for it.”

“I am but I would have liked some more warning. Instead I come back to shelves full of curing jars and oh _this_ is what Aziraphale meant by ‘storing some plants!’”

“Well Thaddeus only needed so much for his parties. I had to do **something** with the extra and it helped so many people! Children with epilepsy, Crowley! And people taking chemotherapy! Migraines!”

“Hang on, you never told me this part. Were you **actually** running a _mail-order medical marijuana dispensary_ out of _my flat_?”

“I used a P.O. address.”

“Under what name?”

“’Gabriel’s Therapeutics.’”

Crowley was very, very glad he wasn’t drinking anything. Tawuse collapsed on the table in hysterics. “Alright, that made it forgiveable,” Crowley wheezed, “The bitch deserves it after the way he treated you. The entire time I was up there, I was thinking about my promise to rip his throat out. I still wish I hadn’t missed him with the fire.”

Tawuse’s head snapped up and they stared at him, “Okay, **what**? ‘Up there’?!”

“Yeahhhh they were a bit pissed with us after we thwarted their Apocalypse.”

“Apocalypse not-Now,” Aziraphale added. Tawuse laughed. “We had some advanced warning and we, well, we swapped bodies and we were able to withstand each other’s punishments that way. Crowley’s was a holy water bath. I asked for a rubber duck.” Tawuse barked another laugh and pinched their nose. 

“His was infernal fire, of course, but they didn’t even throw him into it, no!” Crowley was not laughing anymore. Instead his tone was rising into more and more outrage, “That bitch stood there, smug as you please, and expected him to walk into it himself! ‘Shut your stupid mouth and die, already.’ Him being me, of course, but that’s beside the point!”

Aziraphale’s expression turned strange, “He said that? You never told me that.”

“No I sort of left that part out, didn’t I,” Crowley looked away. “Fucking bastard,” he muttered, then mockingly, “’I’m the Archangel fucking Gabriel!’”

Beat. “And all this time, I thought he _was_ Gabriel.”

“ **I thought that!!** I didn’t say it but I was thinking it! I knew you wouldn’t say it-”

“No, no, I wouldn’t say it,” Aziraphale agreed, “But I would think it.” Another beat. “And probably not-ask if he was Sandalphon, then.” Crowley burst out laughing again. “Ms. Tawuse, are you alright?”

Tawuse raised their head from the table where they’d been laughing so hard they’d gone silent. Tears streamed down their cheeks. “I have so many questions,” they gasped.

Aziraphale gazed fondly at Crowley and took his hand, “I think we’d be a mite hypocritical if we didn’t take them.”

“I gotta know… Who was ordering _an angel_ to grow marijuana? When was the Black Snake a _nanny_ and you came up with _Baby Shark_ oh my God… How do you _thwart_ the Apocalypse? What in the ten Sephiroth did you guys **do**??”

Crowley and Aziraphale grinned at each other. “Angel, get the Seraph some more tea, will you?” He grinned at Tawuse, “Buckle up, kid, this is gonna be a **long** ride!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More notes explaining what I made up and what other people have made up :) 
> 
> Melek Taus is the [primary divinity of the Yazidi people](http://www.yeziditruth.org/the_peacock_angel). While most Yazidi legends agree that Melek Taus Fell, there are several different stories as to how. Some stories say that Melek Taus Fell and wept tears for 40 000 years, and his tears extinguished the fires of Hell. (Notice we saw no actual fire in GO Hell and the ceilings leaked... Hmmm...) In these stories, after extinguishing the fires, Melek Taus was able to reconcile with God and was awarded stewardship of the Earth (which also ties in with the ensoulment story below.) Obviously, this is the story I went with for this fic.
> 
> Some stories say that Melek Taus did not Fall, but descended, out of desire to witness the suffering himself. Still other stories say that Melek Taus did not Fall but descended in order to ensoul the Earth, and he lives today in the center of the living Earth, keeping the planet alive. That last story also connects Melek Taus with enlightenment, which I used for the fic. In these stories, Melek Taus reported back to God and was allowed to amend Hell from a place of punishment to a place of purification, after which souls may walk the earth again in another life (unlike the other Abrahamic religions, the Yazidi believe in reincarnation.)


	5. The Job Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale took Crowley's phone and scrolled through it, frowning. “You can put books on your phone?”
> 
> “Yeah.”
> 
> “Entire books?”
> 
> “Mm-hmm. Lots of them.”

By the end of the long, long story, Tawuse Melek had thrown their stylus in the air and retrieved it seven times, slid off their chair once, inhaled tea three times and finally given up on trying to drink anything, laughed until they were crying, silent, and in a lot of abdominal pain, and had written a ton of notes in increasingly disastrous handwriting. Aziraphale was able to read a few of the notes upside down. They said things like “Murphy’s Law loves these guys”, “crack master rules lawyers”, “freedom bucket children”, “PP = BOOKS”, “holy shit Alexandria!!!”, “PP is NOT SOFT when it comes to BOOKS”, “BS = 100% ride or die for PP”, “TAG AND BINK”, “BS= Creative AF”, “BS = victim of own creativity”, and the one they’d scribbled with shaky hands and eyes blinded by tears of hilarity after Crowley’s story of his M25 stunt literally backfiring, “Murphy’s Law is a bigger fan of BS than I am!” (followed by “did not sound right even if true”).

“Okay!” they gasped finally, “I think I’m getting a picture here.”

Crowley pushed over yet another box of tissues with a grin, “That we’re basically a couple of fucked-up slackers?”

“And that too,” they panted, “Oh my sides hurt. You guys are definitely people to watch out for.”

“I suppose we haven’t exactly painted ourselves in a good light,” Aziraphale said demurely. 

“You’ve painted yourselves perfectly,” Tawuse assured him, “This is fabulous. I definitely appreciate the honesty.”

“Well we don’t exactly have much left to lose,” Crowley drawled.

“No, and it’s clear you love what you **do** do and you’ll fight hard to keep it. That is wonderful. And what you love to do pretty much fits perfectly within my purview so it’s like,” they threw up their hands, “That stunt with the paintball guns and the miraculous escapes, that was perfect.”

“Sure,” Crowley smirked, “’Cept now they have to live with the knowledge that they would gladly kill someone, given the chance, purely because they didn’t like them.”

“That’s _not_ nice,” Aziraphale nodded. Then he flicked his eyes towards Crowley with a wicked little smile, “But I wouldn’t say it was _wrong._ ” Crowley snarled at him. 

Tawuse grinned, “And that’s exactly why it’s perfect. Self-knowledge, I’m very big on that one - goes with the Enlightenment track. Keep doing shit like that.” They tipped their head at him, “You’re really more of a Trickster than a demon, aren’t you?”

“I suppose… never really thought of it that way.”

But Aziraphale was nodding, “He really is.”

“Lovely!” they made a few more notes then looked at Aziraphale, “Now you, Purloined Principality, you’re right up there with the books **but** … Bit of a problem with the hoarding knowledge part.”

Aziraphale’s expression fell with the suddenness and density of a sixteen-tonne weight and Crowley was surprised there wasn’t an echoing thud to go with it. “I’m not selling my books!”

Tawuse held up their hands, “Hear me out first, okay? Not the physical books, no - but what about e-book copies?” Aziraphale stared at them blankly. “You can get these fantastic scanners, archivists use them, they have a cradle to hold the books so they don’t damage the spines like flat scanning, and they can export to epub or mobi or pdf or whatever’s most popular at the time, frankly epub’s the most popular, a bit clunky but works with most e-reader apps…”

Crowley had pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his sunglasses and his shoulders were shaking with the effort not to laugh at Aziraphale’s continued blankness. “Yeah he got a computer but never really got much further than that,” he sighed and took out his phone and touched a few apps, “Like this, Angel.”

Aziraphale took it and scrolled through it, frowning. “You can put books on your phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Entire books?”

“Mm-hmm. Lots of them.”

“Lots? How many is lots?”

“I dunno. I think some people have hundreds.”

“Hundreds of books on their phones? These little phones hold hundreds of books?”

“Well… I think some of them use cloud services to store them,” Crowley winced as soon as he’d said it because Aziraphale glanced upward, “Cloud computing, not that kind of nevermind they’re stored on a lot of massive servers. Hard drives. Ranks and ranks of massive hard drives.”

“And then the phones call them and they get the books?”

“Broadly, yes.”

“Huh.” Aziraphale sat back and scrolled through the demonstration e-book on Crowley’s phone, looking very intrigued.

“After the fire, I think it’s a good idea,” Crowley said, deciding this might be a good approach, “You were lucky with Adam. This way, if it happened again, even if the physical books are destroyed, the knowledge in them won’t be lost entirely.” Aziraphale’s expression turned thoughtful - he was considering it. “I have to admit, I’m not really comfortable with any of conventional cloud storage companies,” Crowley sighed. 

“Run your own server farm?” Tawuse suggested.

Crowley shrugged, “I suppose I could learn to do that. Not going to be doing much tempting these days, I’ll need something to fill in my time.” He looked up and frowned at the ceiling, “Not sure there’s enough room, what with all the refrigeration units…”

Tawuse thought about it for a moment, “There’s a hell realm I can annex, one of the ice levels. They’re not using it, they won’t even miss it.”

Crowley cocked an eyebrow, “A hell realm? Won’t that create problems? We’re trying to _avoid_ Hell.”

“Not if I annex it. That’s a fancy way of stealing it.”

“You can’t _steal_ a hell realm!”

“Wanna watch me?”

“Yes!”

Tawuse sat back, chuckling as they made some more notes. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. Tell you what, you think about it, I’ll come back tomorrow, you tell me what you think. Okay?” Crowley looked at Aziraphale then nodded. “Great. But I do want to link you in first and… I’m a little worried about that incident you described. I want to do something about that. Herself wants you protected - you’re the only other ones who’ve passed Her test, and being the first one to pass Her test? - I kind of want you to stick around, too. So, tomorrow? Same bat-time, same bat-channel?” 

“Sounds good,” Crowley agreed after another glance at Aziraphale. 

They got up and Tawuse offered their hand for Crowley to shake, then drew him close and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Crowley instantly flinched back and clapped his hand over his left ear, gasping as though burned. “Yeah, I’m told it stings a bit. It’ll be over in a moment though.”

“What **is** it? Angel, stay back!”

But Tawuse had already caught Aziraphale’s hand and pressed a kiss to his left cheek. Aziraphale yelped and cringed. “Tell me when it stops stinging,” they said, taking a few objects out of their pockets.

Crowley took his hand away from his face. Aziraphale looked at him and gasped. “Alright,” Crowley said cautiously, “Care to explain now?” Tawuse held up a small dropper bottle and opened it. Crowley sniffed and made a face, “Smells like hot vinegar.”

“Stings like it too,” Tawuse said. They squeezed a few drops of the liquid onto the back of Crowley’s hand.

“Ow! Yeah it does,” Crowley shook it off and scowled at the red marks left on his hand, like first degree acid burns, “What is it?”

“Holy water.” Crowley and Aziraphale both gasped. “It still hurts. If you get hit with a bucketful, you’ll have a full-body sunburn but it won’t kill you anymore. Little bit blessed, right?” They winked. Then they looked at Aziraphale and flicked open a lighter. The smell of sulphur was strong.

“Infernal fire,” Aziraphale acknowledged. 

Tawuse nodded and passed their hand slowly through the flame. “Has it stopped stinging?”

Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley and reached up to touch his left cheek, just in front of his ear. He touched the same spot on his own cheek, then turned his face further so that Crowley could see. In front of his left ear was a tiny peacock feather, like a tattoo. He looked back at Crowley, looked at the red acid burns on Crowley’s hand, then took a deep breath and put his hand into the infernal flame. 

“Ow!” and snatched it back, shaking it out and blowing on it. The skin was reddened but undamaged, just as if he’d touched an ordinary candle.

“Same thing, it still hurts,” Tawuse explained, “I’m not going to lie, it hurts like fuck, but if they shove you into another pillar of fire, you’ll walk out again. With second degree burns, probably, but you will walk out.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, “And I will give your proposal quite serious consideration.”

“Yeah, I know. Catch you tomorrow,” Tawuse said. They walked out to the main room and then… just weren’t there anymore.

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other. 

“Well,” Crowley said, “That was a thing.”


	6. A Rainy Night in Soho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angels go home to take a break and process all the new information they've received. Aziraphale discovers the wonders of e-readers and Crowley discovers the wonders of waking up next to Aziraphale.

“Order in, tonight?” Aziraphale offered in a soft voice. 

Crowley nodded slowly, “Yeah.” He was staring at the red marks on his hand. “What do you make of all that?”

Aziraphale was quiet for several moments. “It’s a lot to take in,” he said finally, “It seems too good to be true. But, that **is** the genuine seal on the paper they were carrying. I haven’t seen one in ages but I’m certain of it. Mind you, I haven’t seen a seraph in ages either.” 

He got up to go root among his stacks of books. Crowley watched him for a moment then took out his phone to place an order from the Indian place they both liked. After several minutes, Aziraphale returned with several books. He put them on his desk and slipped his reading glasses and gloves on, then carefully opened one after the other until he found what he was looking for. “Here,” he said finally, “ _’“The first day which the Supreme God created was Sunday. On that day He created the supreme angels whose names were Azaz’il and Aziz. This is Melekê Taus, who is the greatest of all.  
On Monday He created the Angel Darda’il  
On Tuesday He created the Angel Israfil  
On Wednesday He created the Angel Mika’il  
On Thursday He created the Angel Gibra’il  
On Friday He created the Angel Shimna’il  
On Saturday He created the Angel Nura’il  
And God made Melekê Taus the greatest of them.’_”

“Those are the Islamic names,” Crowley mused, “’Aziz’… I haven’t heard that name in ages.”

“I know the name Azazel.”

“Yeah, that was Lucifer. ‘Aziz’, though… To be honest, I always thought they were the same person. Lucifer tended to collect names.”

Aziraphale smirked, “Is that a demon thing, then?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Crowley shrugged.

“They did say that people get the two confused a lot,” Aziraphale said. He tapped the text, “This is the only source I know of that mentions Melek Taus. And I don’t think I’ve ever head the name Aziz spoken Upstairs.”

“No,” Crowley said thoughtfully, “Not surprising if what they said is true. What’s surprising is I’ve never heard the name Downstairs either.”

Aziraphale nodded and closed the book. Then he withdrew another slim, black volume and tapped it, “This book has the story of the Black Snake plugging the hole in the Ark. Quite silly of me not to have realized that it was you. I knew you were there.”

“Let me see that,” Crowley snapped. 

“That book has quite a bit about Melek Taus in it. Quite a lot of the history doesn’t match up, though, and it all seemed rather fanciful, so I never paid it much attention. Plus it’s rumoured to have been written down by people outside the Yazidi tribe, so it may have gotten a bit lost in translation.”

“Huh,” Crowley said and handed it back.

The food arrived and Crowley took it up to the flat upstairs while Aziraphale put the books back. Aziraphale took his usual chair at the table to join him and they ate in silence for several minutes. Then Crowley tilted his head speculatively at Aziraphale and asked, “Is it the books themselves or the contents that you don’t like letting go of?”

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably. He really hadn’t liked the insinuation that he was _hoarding._ But… “You know I don’t mind selling the copies,” he said, “much.”

Crowley smiled, remembering that Aziraphale often allowed students and professors to photograph pages of his books. “So you’d be fine with lots of people having a copy of the ‘Buggre Alle This Bible’, then?”

“Certainly. It wouldn’t be the original and it _is_ terribly entertaining.”

“It might bring down the value…? No longer strictly one-of-a-kind?”

“It was never about _money_ , Crowley.”

“So the e-books idea…?”

Aziraphale heaved a great sigh, “You have an indisputable point about the fire. The loss of Alexandria was…” He didn’t finish but Crowley nodded anyways.

“Even if the originals were destroyed, you’d be able to print a copy from the electronic version and have it bound,” Crowley explained, “It wouldn’t be the original but it wouldn’t be lost, either.”

“Which is ultimately more important,” Aziraphale admitted, “You’re right. I’ll go along with it.” He devoted himself to his butter chicken, dithering. When he glanced up, Crowley was watching him as he always did. He tore off a piece of naan and used it to wipe up some sauce. “You had rather a hard reaction when Tawuse revealed themself as a Seraph,” he said conversationally, “If there’s anything you need from me, please tell me.”

As he expected, Crowley didn’t answer right away. “Yeah, okay,” he said distantly. He was silent for several more minutes. Aziraphale reached across and placed his hand over his. When Crowley glanced up, Aziraphale smiled warmly. “I won’t let that happen to you,” Crowley said softly, “I thought for sure that…”

Aziraphale nodded, “Seraphim came to take you?”

“Kerubim but yeah, same deal. They seize you, drag you off, yeet you off the top floor, million light year freefall into molten sulphur.”

Aziraphale shook his head. Then he had to bite his lips on a grin. Hard. Crowley gave him a bad look. “I’m sorry, it’s… _‘Yeet?’_ ”

Crowley blinked, “Did I say yeet? I did say yeet. Sorry, yeah, it’s a thing now, it means like… thrown with considerable speed and force.” He demonstrated with a fork. “That’s me, yeeted off the top floor of Heaven.”

Aziraphale chewed thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t you have been yitten?”

Crowley blinked and grinned, “What?”

“Well if it’s following the pattern of write, wrote, written, smite, smote, smitten, wouldn’t it be yeet, yote, yitten?”

Crowley started laughing, “Fair point but then shouldn’t it be yite? I mean, if it’s following smeet, smote - _Smeet??_ \- Smeet, smote, smitten-”

“Then yeet, yote, yitten, right,” Aziraphale was grinning.

“Right, but it’s _sssmite_ -” he said with exaggerated care, “-Smote, smitten, so it should be yite, yote, yitten.”

Aziraphale lifted a finger to point out, “Before the great vowel shift, it would have been pronounced ‘smeet’, so you’re not wrong there.”

“Oh fuck the great vowel shift, mucked everything up,” Crowley huffed. They looked at each other and broke up laughing. Crowley took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes, “I swear, Angel, the things you come up with.”

“Don’t look at me, you started that one.”

“I did, didn’t I,” Crowley sighed, gazing at him fondly.

Aziraphale swallowed another bite of curry. “So, I’m curious - Why do you have one of those e-books things on your phone? I thought you didn’t ‘do books’?”

Crowley shrugged and blew out his lips while he stalled for a believable excuse, not really wanting to admit that they were cool and modern and therefore having an e-reader on his phone was keeping up with the times. “Only when I have to,” he said, “And… they have… lots of accessibility settings that make them easier to read… Can adjust the font sizes, background colour, things like that. Even have a night mode.”

Aziraphale tilted his head, “’Night mode’?”

“Yeah so you can read at night without blinding yourself or keeping everybody awake with the lights on.” He took out his phone and opened the e-reader app to show Aziraphale how it worked. “And text-to-speech, you listen to it read the book for you. I use that a lot,” he admitted.

Aziraphale smiled knowingly, “You do seem to enjoy it when I read to you.”

“That’s mostly because it’s you, Angel,” Crowley said softly. Aziraphale looked away but did that thing he did where he glanced at Crowley out of the corner of his eyes and smiled his sweet 500-watt smile. Crowley reached up to touch the tiny feather on Aziraphale’s left cheek, “Let me see?” He tipped Aziraphale’s chin so he could get a better look at it. “Same on me, you said?”

Aziraphale reached up to touch the same spot on Crowley’s cheek, “Yes, just there. It’ll go nicely with the other one.”

Crowley smiled a little, “What are people going to think when they see ‘Mr. Fell’ and ‘the bookshop twink’ with matching feather tattoos?”

Aziraphale smiled. “They’ll probably think we got matching tattoos to show that we’re a couple.”

Crowley felt a pit in his stomach drop open. He had to force himself to ask, “But… are we?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale looked sad, “I thought I made that clear when I told you what I said to Madame Tracey but I suppose I wasn’t clear enough.” He took Crowley’s hands in his own, “Of course we are… if you’ll have me, that is.”

Crowley barked a sound that was between a laugh and a sob, “If **I’ll** have **you**? You’re the angel, I’m the fallen, unforgiveable-”

“Crowley, no!” Aziraphale launched up out of his chair and crossed over to sit in Crowley’s lap. He gazed earnestly into Crowley’s snake gold eyes, “Crowley…! That was **never** an issue! I’ve told you, the sole thing that held me back from you was knowing what your side **and mine** would do to you if they found out!” Crowley dropped his gaze but his arms tightened around the angel in his lap. “And I know it shouldn’t but it **does** matter to me that our new boss isn’t going to dismember either of us for… for being a couple.”

Crowley turned his head to bury his face in Aziraphale’s neck, “Yeah I guess it does matter, doesn’t it.”

“I’ve forgiven you a thousand times, my dearest Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, lightly stroking Crowley’s hair, “But only recently I realized you needed to hear it. I’m terribly sorry about that.”

Crowley didn’t look up. “You were mocking me.”

“I wasn’t,” Aziraphale pulled back enough to look him again, “How could I ever mock you? You’re the strongest, cleverest person I know! How could I mock you when I’ve felt nothing but admiration for you for centuries!”

Crowley jerked back to stare at him, “What, _seriously_?”

“Like I’ve _ever_ been happy to see Gabriel?” Aziraphale smiled, “But I’m _always_ happy to see you. I’ve _always_ been happiest when you’re with me.”

“Not… _always_ always…”

Aziraphale cupped the snake tattoo on Crowley’s right cheek and his full thousand-watt smile, “ _ **Always**_ , Crowley.” He touched his forehead to Crowley’s and whispered, “You were the first person to make me laugh.”

* * * *

It rained during the night. Aziraphale lay on his side in the darkness, only his face dimly lit by the faint glow from Crowley’s phone. He was reading an e-book and listening to Crowley breathe beside him. Crowley was glommed up tightly against Aziraphale and sound asleep. This alone was reason to get on board with these e-book things. When he first invited Crowley to live at the bookshop, Aziraphale had continued to spend his nights in the back room, reading as he always did. But this was so much better.

A change in breathing told him that Crowley was waking up and he turned to smile tenderly at his beloved demon. “…y’r st’ll h’re,” Crowley slurred into the nape of Aziraphale’s neck. 

“Yes, my dearest,” Aziraphale smiled, “You’ve sold me on this e-reader idea.”

“…wh’y?”

“Mmm. It’s lovely to be able to catch up on my reading while watching over you while you sleep,” Aziraphale sighed and snuggled back further against Crowley, “And this is very pleasant.”

“Y’w’r w’tching me sl’p?”

He felt Crowley sliding his nose along the back of Aziraphale’s hairline, not unlike how he did when he was a snake. “I always do. That’s what I was originally for, if you’ll recall. Watching.”

“I could give you something to watch,” Crowley purred into Aziraphale’s neck.

Aziraphale giggled and leaned his head back to press his cheek against Crowley’s. “Cheeky devil,” he teased.

“That’s me.” Crowley pressed a kiss under Aziraphale’s ear then pressed his face into the hollow at his shoulder and sighed. The rain pattered against the windows. Outside, the faint sound of cars shushed by on wet streets as commuters started their day. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Aziraphale smiled again, his tender candle-light smile, “I always did enjoy cuddling with you. It’s no less enjoyable when you’re not a snake.”

“Think so?” Crowley’s voice was muffled by the kiss he was sucking into Aziraphale’s shoulder, “Time is it?”

“Half-six. Another two hours and a bit before Tawuse Melek shows up again. Time enough for breakfast, if you’d like.”

“Hmm… Might actually eat something today… Maybe a couple of hard-cooked eggs and a sausage.”

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow, “Really?”

Crowley looked puzzled then groaned and buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder again, “And some coffee since I’m apparently not awake enough to think about what I’m saying.” Aziraphale giggled again and reached up to stroke Crowley’s hair and pat his cheek. “Mind you, that means giving up this warm nest and my personal space heater,” he murmured against Aziraphale’s neck. 

“You don’t _have_ to get up. It was just an offer.”

“Mmmm,” Crowley eventually surfaced from inhaling Aziraphale’s fragrance and sighed, “No, if I’m going to be dealing with a seraph again today, I think I need coffee.”

“Alright then. You stay put and keep warm, then. It’s a bit chilly,” Aziraphale put Crowley’s phone down on the night table and pulled the covers back.

Crowley let him go and yawned mightily, “Might go for a shower.”

“Alright. I can manage here.”

When Crowley returned, he found the flat filled with the aroma of fried sausages, French-pressed coffee, and tea, with two plates set out on the table. Aziraphale’s held his sausages, soft boiled eggs, toast soldiers, and some sliced strawberries. Crowley’s held sausage, whole strawberries, and hard boiled eggs still in their shells. When it came to Crowley, “whole food” had a rather different meaning.

Aziraphale had mentioned it only once, in Rome. After that first lunch of oysters, they had met up a few more times, for lunches and suppers. Then as now, Crowley picked at his food, only swallowing a few bites. Aziraphale had made some comment about would it hurt him to chew and Crowley had answered, _”Yes, actually, it does. Jaw’s not really set up for that. It only looks human. Has a tendency to dislocate if I try to chew too much with it.”_ Aziraphale had immediately apologised and that was that, he said no more about it. But he also looked for foods that Crowley could swallow discreetly.

At home though… Well, he felt **safe** with Aziraphale. Aziraphale understood, for the most part. He wasn’t disturbed by Crowley’s eyes, he wasn’t disturbed when they occasionally milked over when Crowley needed to shed, and he wasn’t disturbed by Crowley’s dining methods. So when Crowley picked up an egg and swallowed it in its entirety, Aziraphale just smiled warmly at him, delighted to be sharing breakfast with his beloved demon.

Yes, he could definitely get used to this.


	7. 55 Million Light Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paint Night! Aziraphale and Crowley learn more about their new team and how their new boss works, and it turns out it's not all that different from their Arrangement. But meeting the team brings more than a few surprises...

The kettle boiled and Aziraphale poured the water into the tea pot. He had chosen a nice robust Assam today. If it were just him and Crowley, it’d be a smokey lapsang souchong, perfect for rainy days. Today he placed a bowl of wildflower honey onto the tea tray along with the rest of the tea service. He glanced up at the clock and took the tray out to the back room of the bookshop. When he looked up again, Tawuse Melek was there.

“Good morning,” he said formally, “Is there a title you prefer?”

Tawuse shrugged, “’Yo, bitch!’” 

Crowley was glad he hadn’t picked up his cup yet. Aziraphale’s ears turned pink. “I suspect that will be Crowley’s mode of address for you,” he said.

“Black Snake!”

“Yo, bitch!” Crowley grinned. They high-fived and Aziraphale shook his head. 

“I found some catalogues to look at,” Tawuse said, after sitting down and accepting a cup of tea. They held up their tablet.

Aziraphale exhaled. “I’ve given your request some thought and Crowley brought up several excellent points. We’ve agreed that your proposal is reasonable and acceptable.”

“Great!” Tawuse beamed, “I get the collecting of the books but the hoarding of the knowledge… See, that was _Lucy’s_ thing, he was very keen on restricting who could know what, but it’s _my_ purview now and I’m a little more share-the-light, right?” Aziraphale nodded. Tawuse opened their tablet and thumbed up a few screens, “Anyways, that’s great! I found some archival scanners that you might like, there are a few models that have automatic pagination…”

Crowley didn’t need a crystal ball to see where _that_ future would lead. “Yeahhhh no, automatic pagination, nice idea in theory, **not** going to win him over. Best if he turns the pages himself. It’ll take longer but really, it’s better for everybody.”

“I yield to your wisdom, then,” Tawuse grinned. They handed the tablet to Crowley, “See what you think best then, I’ll place the order. See what you think about servers, too. If you need someone to help set them up, I can arrange that.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, “What about that young Newton Pulsifer? He’s a computer engineer, is he not?”

Crowley nodded thoughtfully, “Maybe.” Then he grinned, “Better not to let him actually **run** them, though.” They laughed.

Tawuse jotted down some notes, “Call him up, discuss it with him, figure out what you need. Contractor fee? - no problem, make him an offer. Get back to me with what you need. I’ll have the hell realm annexed next week but there’s no rush.”

“Yes about that, I’m a little worried about that,” Aziraphale said, “You said it’s an ice realm. Crowley’s mostly cold blooded. He is a snake, after all. I’m a little worried about what that will do to him.”

“Should only be a problem if I have to fix them,” Crowley shrugged, “Running them is no problem, I can do that from upstairs.”

“I did think of that,” Tawuse smiled, “And I’m going to second someone from my team to help you. He’s got a lot of experience with this sort of thing. He’s been helping to run the server farms of an absolutely massive online archive operation, he’s brilliant at it.”

“Sounds good,” Crowley nodded.

“Great! Why don’t we get together with him then? I’ll be doing check-ins with some members of my team tonight, do you want to sit in and see how we work?”

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other and nodded. “Do you not take reporting at Head Office, then?” Aziraphale asked.

“ _NEV-ER_ ,” Tawuse said with exaggerated distaste, then waved their hands, “Nah, too formal, too stuffy, too off-the-grid. I am one Seraph with a very small team spread all over the world, I got too much work to do for that. How I work, I come down first Wednesday every April. We get together wherever works best, we talk, you tell me what you’re working on, you tell me what you need, I make it happen. Simple. Sometimes, maybe I give you some suggestions, maybe a direction to take, then we brainstorm how to make it happen. Other than that, I’m out of your hair. I trust my team to know best how to do their work, and you two, you’ve been doing brilliantly for hundreds of years, you don’t need me breathing over your shoulders. You need help? - you call, I come, or I send someone who can help. Speaking of which, sometimes, help will be you. We’re a small team, we all have our specialities, we all help each other. I need you to be responsive if one of my people calls.”

“’Lend a hand where needed,’” Crowley nodded, looking at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled, “We’ve been doing that for over a thousand years now.”

“Great!” Tawuse wiggled in delight, “Oh this is going to be so much fun! Principality, you - know - SO - much, you are going to be a fantastic resource and you, Black Snake, I have - NEVER - seen a demon with as much creative imagination as you have. That whole ‘little frustrations sowing damnation on a wide scale’ thing you’ve developed is just genius. Downstairs has no idea what they’ve just lost.” Crowley snickered. “I can’t wait to see how you’re going to apply that to knowledge and enlightenment!”

Crowley looked thoughtful, “Neither can I, actually.”

“Ha!” Tawuse startled as their cell phone rang. “Oh, excuse me, I have to take this…” They thumbed the screen open. “Razzy!! S’up, bitch? We still on for this aft? I got a side job for you … Yeah? …. Yeah I wanna do a paint night! - do you guys want to do a paint night with us? - Yeah, sorry, I’m here with the new teamsters, can they come too? - if they want to, that is… Yeah! What about Taz, is Taz coming? And Penny? Okay, yeah, call the rest, see who shows up. Oh, and would you mind if the new teamsters sit in on our check-in? They’re pretty fresh from their HQs, if you remember what I mean. Yeahhh. Great! Okay, see you in a bit then!” They cut the call then looked up, “You want to go to paint night after?” 

“What’s a paint night? Sounds like an event,” Crowley said.

“It is, they usually hold them at a bar or pub or something like that,” Tawuse flicked open another tab on their tablet browser and turned it around, “It’s like one step up from paint-by-numbers, they tell you what to do. The paintings are pretty simple and everyone’s drinking anyways so nobody expects it to look like a Rembrandt.” Crowley laughed. “Like I said, we’re spread all over the world, so these are a great way for us to get together and have a bit of fun.

Crowley knew exactly what would be waiting for him when he looked over at Aziraphale and yyyyyyyup there were the glowy puppy eyes. “Welllll,” he drawled, “Alright, if there’s alcohol involved.” Because nothing was better than Aziraphale’s full 1000-watt smile.

* * * *

“I’m certain I know you from somewhere,” Raz said again.

Crowley definitely knew him from somewhere. He did his best to shrug casually, “I’ve been on Earth for the last six thousand years. Bit of a stretch.”

‘Raz’ was a little taller than Aziraphale, with ink black hair, olive skin, high cheekbones and almond-shaped dark eyes. A tiny peacock feather was tattooed before his left ear. He looked a little older than Crowley remembered and had introduced himself as “Raziel, former Scribe of Heaven. You can call me Raz or even Razzy, since we’re on the same team.”

“Aziraphale, former Principality, currently owner of a bookshop. And this is my best beloved, the demon Crowley.”

”Hi,” Crowley had managed, staring.

“Ohhhh that explains the…” Raz gestured, taking in something Crowley had no idea what but Aziraphale understood from the way he was nodding.

“’Raziel’, I’m certain I know your name,” Aziraphale said, “Did you write a book?”

“I did,” Raz acknowledged. He looked sad, “I gave it to the humans after they were expelled from Eden. The poor things were so confused, they _really_ didn’t understand what they had done that was so wrong.”

“Neither did I,” Crowley muttered. Raz looked at him inquiringly and he waved a hand, “Serpent of Eden. Hi.”

Raz’s eyes widened, “Oh you gave them the apple?” Crowley waved again. “Ohhhhh! …And I gave them the book…”

“And I gave them the sword which turned out to be a sword of Truth which I… did not know at the time,” Aziraphale sighed.

Raz’s eyes widened then closed and he began to laugh, “Oh wow… The apple of Knowledge of Good and Evil, the sword of Truth, and the book of belief, all given to the humans… and none of it planned! Jesus Christ and Mister Rogers!”

“Sorry, you gave them a book of _belief_?” Crowley said.

Raz sighed, “I wrote it to try to help the poor things to understand the Almighty and find their way home. But apparently that was a Very Bad Thing to do. The other angels stole my book from the humans and threw it away into the ocean.”

“Well, someone must have retrieved it because I have it,” Aziraphale said, “The _Sepher Raziel HaMalakh_? Probably not the original, this is a bound paper book. But if you’d like, you can come by the bookshop some time and take a look at it, tell me how accurate it is.”

“Oh!! Oh yes, I’d love to! Thank you!”

Tawuse Melek came back to the tables with their drinks, “Raz, about that side job I mentioned, you got some time free tomorrow? Black Snake, are you free?”

“Yeah, sure, tomorrow’s fine,” Crowley nodded. He felt Raz staring at him again.

“’Black Snake’?” Raz said, turning to Tawuse, “You mean _the_ Black Snake?” He looked back at Crowley, “I thought you said Serpent of Eden?”

“Same person,” Tawuse said. Crowley waved again. 

Raz was staring at him but talking to Tawuse, “’Messiah of the Weak’ Black Snake? _**That**_ Black Snake?”

Now Tawuse was staring at Raz and glancing at Aziraphale, who looked just as baffled. “Is that bad?”

_Here it comes,_ Crowley thought. Raz was staring at him fixedly, “Jesus Christ and Mister Rogers! — You’re…!”

_Yep. Here it is._ “Crowley,” Crowley said softly but firmly, “Hi Raziel. ‘S been a while.”

“ _ **OH MY GOD!**_ ” Raziel launched himself out of his chair to clasp Crowley’s hands, startling him. He was even more startled when Raziel cupped his face, then kissed both his cheeks. “ _I have missed you **so much!**_ ”

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting this,” Tawuse muttered. 

Raziel was digging out his phone and dialling frantically. “Taz? Taz, where are you? Are you on your way? You need to get here right now! Right now, Taz!”

“I am literally around the corner, will you chill out?” said a doubled voice, “Like I am literally walking in the door.” The man speaking put his phone in his pocket, “Hi Razzy, what’s got your knickers in such a twist?” He spotted Aziraphale and Crowley, noticing the tattoos on their cheeks. “Hi, you must be new. I’m Taz.”

The demon Taz was short, with black hair, black hoodie and black jeans, and a rather anxious demeanour. He had the kind of unfortunate hair that looked greasy no matter how clean it was, which atmosphere also extended to his person. Like Crowley, he wore sunglasses, which meant his eyes likely had an appearance that would disturb most humans. Aziraphale had noticed that during his brief visit to Hell. He smiled and offered his hand to shake, “Aziraphale. I run a bookshop. The grouchy one is Crowley.” Crowley snarled. 

“Crowley?! The one who’s got all of HQ in a twist and caused that big riot?”

Raziel frowned at him, “How do you know that? You haven’t been Downstairs in nearly seventeen years!”

“I know because I hear things and there’s been a whole bunch of them coming up to escape the heat. Apparently they’re cracking the whips down there worse than ever and it’s because **this** one-” he nodded his head at Crowley, “-did something that got the chiefs all riled up and apparently he’s immune to holy water.” 

Crowley smiled and shrugged, “What can I say?”

Taz tipped his head to see the feather tattoo on Crowley’s cheek, “And you found your way to us, eh? Well done! Well, welcome aboard, brother!” Crowley’s expression went strange but he shook it off. They shook hands and Taz tipped his head, “S’weird, I’m sure we haven’t met but you look really familiar.”

“We’ve met,” Raziel said carefully, “ _Before._ ”

Taz looked at him, “What?”

Raziel chewed his lip then looked at Crowley and smiled nervously, “I’m sure you remember Ramiel? Taz’s twin?”

“We don’t talk,” Taz said flatly. 

“No,” Crowley said very softly, “I don’t believe you do.” A slow, misty smile was spreading over his face. Aziraphale was watching carefully. “We worked on that big nebula together.”

Taz stared at him and his mouth slowly dropped open, “Y… You’re…” His face went tense. Then tears started to drip down his cheeks. 

“Hey, remember that black hole we did?”

Taz grinned, “They got pictures!! A bit fuzzy though.”

“Well, it’s fifty-five million light years away,” Crowley grinned.

“Did you see the full-out version?”

“No!”

“Here,” Taz pulled out his phone and thumbed open an image. Aziraphale peered over his arm at it.

Crowley gasped, “Ohhhh, **look** at it! Burning away out there, bending the light like that. Oh, I never expected it’d get **that** beautiful!” He grinned at Taz, “I never expected they’d be able to **see** it!”

Taz nodded, “I know! We’ve been working towards that for years. I haven’t been able to visit the EHT project for a while though, I got called over to the S2 project. Remember those stars we skeeted at Sagittarius A* to see how close we could get? They’re still zooming around it!”

“What, seriously? I would have thought they’d fallen in by now.”

“Nope, they’re still clipping around, doing five thousand klicks a second at closest approach! S-2 and S0-102, they’re-” Taz broke, “Oh **_fuck it all_** , I’ve missed you!” He took off his sunglasses, tears streaming from his glossy black featureless eyes. _Spider eyes,_ Aziraphale realized. “I never believed you Fell!”

“Oh I did,” Crowley said, taking off his own sunglasses and revealing his own golden snake eyes, “I didn’t know you had.”

“ _ **Fuck!**_ ” Taz said again. Then he reached out and grabbed Crowley into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, brother. I’m so glad you’ve found your way here.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Crowley whispered.

After a few more moments, they separated, each wiping the tears from their faces and putting their sunglasses back on. “It’s kind of uncanny though, how many of us have found our way here.”

Raziel nodded, “Yeah, it’s like we’re all gravitating back together.”

“What do you mean?” Crowley said.

“Penny, Tanith, Chad, Nuriel, Arariel - we knew all of them.”

“Those last two sound like Angelic names,” Aziraphale said. He remembered Tawuse Melek mentioning having disaffected angels on their team. 

Raz nodded, “Yeah, there’s a couple of us. It just… After what they- … It all just got to be… more than we could take, I guess. We couldn’t live with ourselves if we stayed, we couldn’t support what they were doing, and if we stayed… We didn’t Fall, we just… walked away.”

Aziraphale smiled, “I admit, it is a comfort to know I’m not the only one.” 

Raziel met his eyes and nodded, then reached out impulsively and squeezed his hand, “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More notes!
> 
> The _Sepher Raziel HaMalakh_ is a real book, considered to be a book of angelic magic. It does mention the angel known elsewhere as "Messiah of the Weak." The _Sepher_ does not consider that angel to be a Fallen angel, but a wise and gentle angel of great knowledge and compassion. More on this in a later chapter.
> 
> The legend surrounding the _Sepher Raziel HaMalakh_ states that Raziel, the Scribe of God, composed the book out of sympathy when the humans were cast from Eden, and gave it to them to help them understand the Almighty and find their way back to God. The other angels found this heckin creepy and they stole the book from the humans and chucked it into the deepest ocean. The original legend says that God Himself retrieved the book and gave it back to the humans (no word on whether the other angels were reprimanded for vandalism)


	8. The Wandering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paint Night continues! More of Team Peacock arrive, bringing more surprises, including the fate of one of the most enigmatic of Heaven's angels. Aziraphale learns more about Crowley and Crowley learns more about Aziraphale.
> 
> Plus, more Taz!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm **astonished** at the amount of love for Taz, like I did **not** expect this. So here is the next chapter way early, so you can have more Taz to love. 
> 
> ....please don't post pictures of Taz.

More team members showed up before the painting event got underway. Aziraphale was assured there were still more members who couldn’t make that particular event but he would likely meet at a later time. There were indeed other disaffected angels and they had quite an amusing reaction to Crowley. They kept hovering near him, very happy, smiling beatifically, and it was creeping him out. The other demons didn’t understand it either. Aziraphale just bit firmly on his lip to keep from grinning too much.

The biggest surprise walked through the door a few minutes before the event started. She was tall and slender, garbed in slacks and a loose tunic of shifting ocean colours. Her hair was in locs and gathered up into a series of ponytails that rose and fell down her back like a dragon’s crest. She was as dark as Aziraphale was pale and her skin was dusted with iridescent cosmetics in golds, turquoises, and fuschias. 

“Ray!”

“Raffy!”

“Ra-Ra!”

“Yo bitch!”

“Hello everyone! So lovely to see you all again!” She reached to touch hands with Tawuse. Then she saw Crowley and smiled, her teeth white against her dark skin. “Crowley! What are you doing here?”

Tawuse blinked, “Wait, do you know _everyone_ on my team?”

To Aziraphale’s surprise, Crowley rose and clasped her hands, allowing her to kiss his cheeks, then kissed hers. 

“Oh, Crowley, you’re hurt!”

Crowley shook his head, “It’s nothing, old wounds, walking on consecrated ground. They’ve healed over, they don’t even bother me, don’t put yourself out.” He didn’t glance at Aziraphale, not wanting to see his expression.

“It’s never putting myself out, Crowley dear,” the woman said. Gently she cupped Crowley’s cheek and a warm glow enveloped her hand, “Better?” Crowley shrugged but he smiled. The woman turned and smiled at Aziraphale, “And you must be Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale rose and bowed slightly. “Archangel Raphael!” he stammered, “Um, have we met before?”

“I don’t believe so,” she smiled and reached out to clasp his hand, “But you’re all Crowley talks about.”

“Not _all_ I talk about,” Crowley muttered.

“All he talks about,” Raphael winked. She leaned back and tipped her head speculatively, “And I can see why!” Aziraphale smiled and Crowley scowled. The Archangel took a seat beside Tawuse Melek and hugged them.

“You know him too?” Tawuse said, “How is it that you know everybody on my team already? Starting to see why I was asked to take you on.”

Raphael tipped her head, “Really?”

“Yeah, we need to talk later. These guys have intel. **Recent** intel.”

“Really! Now that’s interesting,” Raphael smiled at Aziraphale, “And how is Upstairs lately?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Aziraphale said. Tawuse grinned and Raphael smiled sadly. “I really don’t know what’s happened up there. It wasn’t great before you disappeared and it’s gone steadily worse ever since. I don’t know if you knew, they gave your spot to Sandalphon.”

Raphael wrinkled her nose, “What? Who’s horn did he blow to get that?”

“Gabriel’s,” Aziraphale said bluntly. Crowley inhaled his wine. “He follows Gabriel around like a puppy, so it was surely his idea.”

Crowley got himself back under control. “Yeahhhh, about that, I thought Michael was in charge? When did the smirking bitch get the top spot? When did that change?”

“When Michael changed her presentation,” Raphael drawled.

A chorus of “Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh” went around the table.

“It’s so ridiculous! We’re **angels** , we don’t even have that nonsense, so why should we be bound to it?” said an angel who’d been introduced as Muriel. She gave the impression of being a very young angel, though many of her comments indicated that she had at least three thousand years under her wings. 

Crowley scratched his chin with the end of his paintbrush, “Yeahhhhh, how long’s that been going on, anyways?”

“They made a lot of stupid changes around then,” said Muriel’s sibling Nuriel, “They shouldn’t have kicked Penny out, they got a massive infestation of stupid after that and nobody around to cure it!” Laughter around the table. 

“I’m still pissed they replaced Professor Honeycakes.”

Nuriel slammed their hand on the table. “ **That’s** where I know you from!” they said to Aziraphale, “ **You’re** Professor Honeycakes!”

Crowley nearly sprayed his wine. _**”What?”**_

“Oh goodness, I’d forgotten all about that,” Aziraphale chuckled, “You were in my classes?”

“You _teach?_ You never told me you taught?”

“I sense another story and I’m not sure my ribs can take it,” Tawuse said.

“Yeah, _Introductory Blessing and Thwarting_ ,” Nuriel and Muriel both nodded, “Second semester before last. We signed up for your 101 series but they’d replaced you with someone else.”

“He **sucked** ,” Muriel said loyally, “It’s like he didn’t have _any_ field experience at all!”

“He probably didn’t,” Aziraphale sighed. 

“Hang on, who’s calling you ‘Honeycakes’?!”

“That’s what he used for teaching!” Muriel said, and explained. By the end of her story, the whole table was in hysterics and Crowley was staring at Aziraphale with a mixture of astonishment and pride.

“And then that bitch fired him!” Nuriel finished hotly. 

Aziraphale smirked. “I guess he didn’t like honeycakes,” he said, to another ripple of laughter.

Raphael swished out her paintbrush. “So, Crowley, how did you find your way to the Peacock Angel?”

“Got reassigned after Armageddon,” Crowley shrugged, “Speaking of which, where were you lot during all that?”

“United States, India, Singapore, Europe… Trying to crash as many data centres as possible before they could pass the arming signals,” Tawuse said, “We were busy.”

Aziraphale flexed an eyebrow, “You weren’t in support of the Apocalypse?”

Tawuse smirked, “Not hardly. Big on spreading knowledge, remember? Kind of useless if there’s no one left to spread it to.” 

Raphael nodded, “No, none of us are truly in favour of the gang war the respective head offices have going on.”

“If you ask me, they’ve all got testosterone poisoning,” Muriel sniffed, “And they don’t even have any testosterone!” Aziraphale frowned thoughtfully.

“How does an **archangel** end up here?” Crowley asked, “You didn’t have that feather the last time we talked, granted that was about, what, 70s? 80s?”

“79,” Raphael said, “We travelled together briefly when you were on your way to Naples and I to Herculaneum.”

Crowley paused, “Ooo. Right. Bad business, that was.”

Raphael smiled warmly, “You asked some very good questions.”

“He excels at that,” Aziraphale smiled.

Raphael nodded, “After the disaster, I went East looking for answers. I found more questions, so I went South. There I found the Rainbow Serpent.” She smiled at Tawuse Melek.

Crowley gaped, “ **You’re** the Rainbow Serpent! Why am I surprised by that?”

Tawuse grinned, “Yah, Seraph, third form. If you see it, I’m either going somewhere really fast or I am **pissed** and ready to throw down. Hope you never have to see that.”

Crowley cringed, “So do I.”

“The transformation is quite impressive though,” Raphael said urbanely. 

“Ha!” Tawuse laughed, “I was **so** glad when magical-girl anime became a thing!” They gestured, “Rainbow Peacock Power MAAAAKE-UP!” They didn’t actually transform though. 

Crowley nearly knocked over his canvas for laughing. “You’ve **got** to be joking!” he gasped.

“Oh come on, really?” Raz said. He pointed at Taz, “This guy’s been screaming ‘Traaaans-MUTE’ since 1978!”

Taz nodded. “When I met Penny again, we did Wonder Twins! She’d be ‘Form of an opossum!’ and I’m like ‘shape of a… giant… hairy spider,’” he finished with a discouraged tone.

Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, “Yeah I kinda figured from the eyes and the chelicerae.”

“Some spiders are very pretty,” Aziraphale offered.

Raz grinned and patted Taz’s shoulder, “He’s not but he **is** famous!”

“Oh?”

“It’s not that great of a story,” Taz demurred.

Raz shook his head, “It is a hilarious story! … up until the performance review, I’ll admit, but even that turned out okay because you found us!”

“Oh now I have to know,” Crowley said. 

Taz sighed but smiled, “Well, I got transferred off of document maintenance and onto surface liaisons as a scout. I don’t know why they picked me, I could have told them I’m not a very good scout. I was supposed to scout for leads for the tempters to follow up on, y’see. I’d found a likely group of humans and I hid behind a clock so I could listen and I thought I’d hidden myself completely but apparently I hadn’t quite fully tucked in my toes…”

“Oh my S- G… **You’re** the _Clock Spider_?!” Crowley howled.

“Don’t google that,” Raz grinned. 

Taz nodded, “Next thing I knew, the clock vanished and all the humans were taking pictures of me.” Crowley was nearly doubled over laughing. “I got a bad performance review after they discovered it had gone viral on the internet.”

Crowley stopped laughing and looked sympathetic, “Ouch. Yeah. So how did that lead to you winding up with this lot?”

“After the performance review, I came up topside to recover and came up next to their annual review party. Penny found me first, then Raffy healed me and they asked if I’d like to stay. I didn’t realize they meant **stay** -stay until they asked what I like to do. I haven’t been back since. I’m doing astronomy again!”

“Yeah, you said you were working with NASA now?”

“And several other agencies, yes,” Taz nodded, “What about you, what will you be doing?”

“Other than helping Aziraphale convert the bookshop to an e-library? Don’t know yet, really. I used to be on Temptations.”

“Yes, I heard,” Taz said in a slightly more flat tone. Raz shot him a look. “Lots of commendations, I heard.”

“If you mean, lots of getting credit for things the humans came up with by themselves, because Head Office didn’t know what a computer was fifty years ago and still thinks an iPod is something you store contact lenses in, then yeah.”

Taz stared at him, “So… World War Two…”

Crowley shook his head slowly, “That was all them, Taz. And they’re doing it again and I’m out, I’ve been out for years and I’m officially out now.”

Taz sat back and breathed obvious relief. “Okay. Okay. Penny’ll be glad. I’m… okay.” He sucked in a breath and exhaled, “I admit I was having a little trouble reconciling the person I knew with… with the Crowley I’d heard about. I mean, I know we change but…”

Crowley spread his hands, nearly smudging paint on Aziraphale’s canvas. “I had to secure a place too, Taz. You know what it’s like Downstairs.” Taz nodded. So did the other demons. Then he reached across and touched Taz’s hand, “If I’d known you were there, I would have found a way to take you with me.”

Taz turned his hand to grip Crowley’s.

* * * *

“Well that was lovely,” Aziraphale said as Crowley drove them back home, “I don’t think I’d make a regular habit of it but it was an enjoyable treat, don’t you think?” Silence. “Crowley?” Crowley was staring fixedly ahead but not responding. “Crowley, my dear, are you alright?”

Crowley seemed to snap out of whatever had been holding his attention. “Hm? Sorry, what was that?”

“I said it was an enjoyable evening,” Aziraphale said, watching him from the corner of his eye.

“Hm. Right, yeah,” Crowley said.

“But now I’d quite like to get home.” Something was wrong. For the rest of the ride, Aziraphale watched both Crowley and the road. Crowley did manage to get them back safely but something was definitely off. Aziraphale quickly unlocked the bookshop and ushered Crowley to the back room. “Cocoa or cognac?” he offered. “Crowley?”

“Hm? Oh… uh… Sorry, what was that?”

“Cocoa or cognac?”

“…Both? Can you do that? Cocoa with cognac?”

“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale put the kettle on then went to put the paintings aside and find his best cognac. He had a feeling they were both going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to PeniG's fantastic and hilarious story [_Introduction to Blessing and Thwarting_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20138446), which I instantly adopted as headcanon. It is brilliant. Go read it. 
> 
> Don't google the Clock Spider*.  
> Don't google the Clock Spider.  
>  **DON'T GOOGLE THE CLOCK SPIDER.**  
>  The Clock Spider was a rather large huntsman spider found hiding behind a clock in 2003. It is the stuff of nightmares for arachnophobes like me, so please **DO NOT POST OR LINK PICTURES OF THE CLOCK SPIDER IN THE COMMENTS**.   
> *Clock Spider should be googled only by confirmed spider lovers and even they should exercise caution because damn son that thing be a refugee from the Permian era
> 
> Archangel Raphael. There is fanon that Crowley was Raphael before he Fell. I believe this stems largely from the fact that Raphael is missing from the traditional four Archangels, his place taken by Sandalphon. Neil, however, has said that Crowley was nobody special, so I've gone in a different direction, which will be explored further in the next two chapters.


	9. Dodging Traffic In Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley remembers his old team mates. Aziraphale has to find him and guide him back to the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic descriptions of angelic violence.

In space, no one can hear you scream. 

If an angel falls through space and there’s no air to transmit it, does he still make a sound?

Does he ever.

And if he falls into a lake of molten sulphur, burning blue as cobalt, he screams his throat bloody.

A hand thrust up through the surface, desperate.

Another hand clasping it. Pulling him out. Over the sounds of screams and wrath, weeping. His burned eyes cleared enough to see

**Archangel.**

He tried to push away. He’d seen what the Archangels had done unto others. He’d seen what they did to Yeqon and Penemue. He’d seen what they did to Shemyaza. But she shook her head, still weeping, and she wrapped him in a cloth to protect herself from the sulphur that dripped from his burned flesh, and she embraced him. 

_”Crowley?”_

She did her best to heal him but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But she did her best, weeping. She never spoke. She just held him close and petted what was left of his hair and rocked him as she tried her best to heal his unholy wounds.

Finally she kissed his forehead then let him go, and got up to go find another victim to heal. 

_”Crowley, can you hear me?”_

They’d come for Chazaquiel. The Kerubim, and he didn’t understand why. What was so wrong about teaching the humans how to read the clouds and understand the weather? But the Kerubim had come and he didn’t understand why.

Maybe Lucifer was right.

One swung their mace and he threw himself against Chazaquiel, taking the blow meant for her. The mace crushed his ribs, mangled his arm. Distantly he heard Raziel screaming in protest.

_”Crowley, my dear, when are you? Can you tell me?”_

Penemue screamed, a most unholy sound, and the Kerub’s sword thunked into the flesh of her wings, over and over and over, and for what? What had **she** done that was so wrong? But there would be no answers. The Archangel held her down and the Kerubim hacked brutally at Penemue’s wings and crushed her beneath their feet and there was nothing anybody could say that would stop them.

Lucifer was right. 

But maybe there was something he could **do**. 

He put his bloodied hands together and conjured a star between them. And when it was big enough and bright enough, he flung it straight at the angels. 

_”Crowley? What’s happening now?”_

The maces of the Kerubim slammed into him again and again and again. They hacked him with their swords.

And when he was a bloody, mangled pulp, the enraged Kerubim reached for him.

_”…falling…”_

_”That’s right, you Fell.”_

They weren’t finished with him. They must have waited until the Archangel had left. They seized his still-healing body between them and **pulled**

And he screamed

_”And you became a demon. And then they sent you up to Eden to make a little trouble, isn’t that right?”_

The woman was just easier to talk to, that’s all it was. The man was just as curious. He’d just found it easier to talk to the woman to find out what they were both curious about. That’s all it was. He had no idea it was going to cause **that** much trouble. 

_”Who did you meet there?”_

_”…angel…”_

The angel had looked so **panicked** at first, for reasons that would shortly become apparent. Poor angel, here he’d been given this fiery sword to defend the gate of Eden and no sooner did he give it away then this demon showed up! From **inside** the wall!

He wasn’t sure **why** he’d decided to chat up the angel but he was glad he did.

_”And which angel was that?”_

_”…Aziraphale…”_

And then the angel **smiled.**

_”That’s right. And another time we met was during the Great Flood, isn’t that right? What did you do there?”_

Days stretched into weeks and still the ark rocked with the rhythm of the waters. The angel had stayed as long as he could but eventually he was ordered to leave, an order he liked as plainly as he had liked his other orders, to judge by the way he bit on his lips and dithered about it. But eventually he could procrastinate no longer and now he was gone. 

The ark rocked. The cattle lowed. The children had long ago ceased weeping and now sat in dull-eyed silence, hugging their knees and occasionally each other. And then the ark shuddered.

Something scraped along the hull and he felt a flash of panic stab through him. Then the current shoved the ark forcefully against something solid and it foundered. 

He felt his robe growing damp. **Shit!** The ark was leaking! He got up and went to inspect the damage. There was a crack in the hull, torn open by a spur of rock just barely visible. Another surge of current rocked the ark and loosened it from the spur and now the ark was leaking **a lot!** It was free again but wouldn’t be afloat for much longer! 

He closed his eyes. There was only one thing he could think of to do. He wasn’t even sure if he could change back if he did this. This was going to terrify the children. They and everything else aboard this ark would drown if he didn’t do it. He’d trade their trust in him for their safety. He wasn’t even sure it would make a difference. 

He shifted into his form of a snake, red of belly and black of back, curled his body into a ball, and plugged the hole in the ark.

_”That’s right, and you saved everyone. And when was another time that we met?”_

_”…rome…”_

_”That’s right, we met in Rome. What did we do there?”_

“Oh, let me tempt you to lunch!”

Whaaaaaaat was this cute little angel actually trying to tempt **him**? And look at that, now he’s flustered! It was so heckin cute he just couldn’t say no. 

And he was so glad he didn’t because it was a fantastic lunch. You were **supposed** to swallow the oysters whole! 

And the company was lovely too. The angel was chatty and clearly knew his way around food. And clearly enjoyed it which was just so… so… **different** from any of the other angels he’d met on his long journeys (there weren’t many but there were some and they were all hostile and remote and detested being here in the world.) He’d found himself staring, entranced by the way the angel consumed his food, by the way he commented on the wine, the way his face was so animated, by the way he chattered. 

By the way he smiled.

_”That’s right and you’ve liked oysters ever since, haven’t you? And when else did we meet?”_

“Buck up, Hamlet!”

Oh my Satan, really, Angel? You may have just invented audience participation.

It **did** take a miracle to get that play going but it was worth the effort because the Scotland trip proved to be a complete disaster. Both the blessing and the tempting went awry and none of it was the angel’s fault. He turned out to be rather good at tempting, actually. Probably the cute smile. The angel could turn on a face like a pleading puppy that made him incredibly hard to deny. The fact that the other angels were immune to it told him everything he needed to know about the state of Heaven these days. 

In the meantime, it gave him time to prepare his gift. It had taken ages to procure it but once he saw the scholar’s copy of the _Genji Monogatari_ that had been smuggled out of Japan, he knew he had to get it for his angel. 

And when his angel had returned to his rooms in London, cold, wet through, tired, foul of mood and temper, he had greeted him with warm wine, a warm fire, warm blankets, and when the moment was right, his gift.

And his angel’s smile was so dazzlingly bright, it was like looking at the stars again. 

I wonder if he still has that book?

_”Yes I do but it’s not on the shelves. I’d never put a treasure like that out for people to paw at. That one’s much too important to me, Crowley, my dearest.”_

Didn’t it burn down?

_”That’s right, it did burn down. And what happened to it next?”_

Adam restored it. It’s fine now. It’s all restored. And he looked around to see the couch and the chair and the warm decor of the back room. He was sitting on the floor, on the old carpet. He was chest to chest with his angel, arms and legs wrapped around each other, and his angel was gazing at him with that tender smile that always made him ache. There was a red pressure mark on his forehead.

“Angel?”

“Are you with me now?” Aziraphale said gently. 

Crowley reached up to feel his own face and bumped his glasses. His face was wet, cold in the cheeks and hot in the forehead where he was sure he had a red mark to match Aziraphale’s. Apparently the angel had been forehead-to-forehead with him for some time. He glanced at the windows but it was still dark outside. “How long was I…?”

“Not quite twenty-four hours,” Aziraphale replied, “You seemed to need it.”

Twenty-four hours. A whole day, lost. He started shivering.

Aziraphale pulled him close again, “It’s alright, my dearest, I’ve got you.”

He couldn’t stop shivering. “Did I… say anything…?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Aziraphale considered his answer carefully. “Enough for me to understand. Enough for me to pull you forward.” The shivering was turning into shaking and Crowley’s breath was getting more rapid and shallow. “I’ve got you,” he said again, “Just breathe with me.”

“…fuck…”

“Language, my dear,” Aziraphale teased gently, “But I’m being reasonable because you’ve had a bit of a shake-up.”

“ _’A bit of a shake-up’?_ ” Crowley gasped, incredulous.

Aziraphale smiled tenderly again, “Well what would you call it?”

“I **lost a day** , that’s more than just ‘a bit of a shake-up,’” Crowley said. He took off his glasses to wipe his face, then frowned at them, “Didn’t I take these off last night?”

“You did. I put them back on.”

Crowley stared at him, puzzled, “Why?”

“It was an attempt to ground you in who you are now,” Aziraphale sighed. Crowley continued to stare at him. “Did I… overstep?”

“No,” Crowley whispered finally. He hugged the angel closer again and put his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're not imagining it. Crowley's flashbacks are out of sequence until Aziraphale guides him back.


	10. The Watchers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My dearest,” Aziraphale began hesitantly, “A number of things came up last night that drew my attention. Particularly Raziel’s surprise that so many of the team had a common past, but there were other things as well. How much would it distress you if I were to do a bit of research?”
> 
> Crowley blinked slowly, “Into us?”
> 
> Aziraphale nodded, “Yes.”

Despite his distress at having lost an entire day to his memories, Crowley spent the next several hours still clinging with his face buried in Aziraphale’s shoulder, letting his angel rock him and stroke his hair and back, listening to his soothing voice speaking words of comfort and reassurance.

“…Easily the strongest person I’ve ever known,” his angel was saying, “How you managed to come through all of that with even a shred of kindness left in you, let alone the levels of compassion and love I’ve witnessed in you, now that’s a true testimony to your real strength…”

“Why the hell did they keep hovering around me like that?” Crowley murmured. 

It took Aziraphale a moment to work out what he meant. “Oh, the angels? Last night, you mean?” Crowley nodded. “Oh that, yes,” Aziraphale smiled and stroked Crowley’s hair again. “They were responding to the aura of love that surrounds you. I’m sure it’s quite unexpected on a demon but you are a very well loved demon. All those people who’ve worshipped the Black Snake? And Tawuse Melek, who has your statue. And all your fans on those review websites, who love you as the bookshop snake and the bookshop twink…”

“’M not a twink,” Crowley muttered sourly.

“Of course not, my dear. I’m sure your fans think it’s endearing.”

Crowley shrugged, mollified.

Aziraphale held him close and rocked him. “Yes my dearest Crowley,” he whispered, “You are very much loved indeed.”

It was another hour before Crowley finally decided he needed cocoa. He let Aziraphale get up to make it but stayed stuck to him. Aziraphale didn’t mind in the least, twining his fingers with Crowley’s or letting him cling to his waist or elbow when he needed both hands. Crowley tried murmuring apologies but Aziraphale brushed them away. “Nonsense, my dearest. It’s no different from when you’re a snake. Well, I amend that, it’s slightly easier to carry you about when you’re a snake,” and he smiled his tender candlelight smile and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek. He knew that Crowley found it easier to give and receive physical affection as a snake. But he didn’t change and he didn’t put his sunglasses on either. Aziraphale measured an ounce of cognac into the cocoa and treasured the gift of trust that Crowley was giving him. 

Which was why he really didn’t want to bring this up. 

But he had to. “My dearest,” he began hesitantly, “A number of things came up last night that drew my attention. Particularly Raziel’s surprise that so many of the team had a common past, but there were other things as well. How much would it distress you if I were to do a bit of research?”

Crowley blinked slowly, “Into us?”

Aziraphale nodded, “Yes.” He took a breath and admitted, “If you allow it, there is a distinct possibility that I could come across who you were. But I really don’t wish to cause you further distress.”

_Not when you’ve already lost over a day getting your wheels stuck in the mud in memory lane,_ Crowley thought. He sipped the cocoa. Aziraphale had made it extra rich and used the best cognac. The flavours flowed over his tongue and grounded him. It tasted like love. “Alright,” he said at last, “Just don’t… just don’t dwell on it.”

“Of course not. Thank you.” Another kiss to Crowley’s cheek, then Aziraphale went out among the shelves, towing Crowley behind him who stayed stuck to his waist as Aziraphale searched among the stacks. Then he took the books back to the back room, took out a notepad and pencil, then sat on the couch to let Crowley arrange himself however he wanted.

He started with Raziel, noting him on the notepad and annotating him with an A, then added Taz with an FA annotation, noting that he specialized in astronomy and had worked with Crowley on black holes and nebulae, and that he had a twin named Ramiel. That was where he began his search. Interestingly, he started his search with Crowley’s phone, finding it more convenient at this moment than starting up his own computer. Then he switched to his books to find more details, once he knew where to look.

He found Ramiel's twin, the angel Tamiel, quickly enough. A Fallen angel, noted as having been a member of a group called Watchers, though quite different from the kind of watching Aziraphale had been assigned. Tamiel was noted as having taught astronomy. 

He followed along the Watchers trail and found the others easily enough. Penemue who taught mankind to write, was noted as ‘curer of stupidity’, and Aziraphale tipped his head, remembering that Nuriel had made such a joke at the painting event last night, when referring to a Fallen teammate. He noted ‘Penny - FA’ on his notes. 

He found others. Sariel who taught the courses of the moon (’Tanith - FA’). Chazaquiel, who taught humanity to read the clouds and predict the weather (’Chad - FA’). Kokabiel, who knew the movement of stars and read their portents, who was so shocked and appalled by Heaven’s treatment of the Fallen that he chose to Fall with them in solidarity and compassion, who became known as… Aziraphale sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.

Who was currently draped over Aziraphale’s lap and clinging to his shoulders, cheek resting on his hair. “Found me, huh?” Crowley whispered.

“I found an angel who created stars, was called Messiah of the Weak and was said to have Fallen in solidarity, and yearned to return to the stars,” Aziraphale said carefully, “He was also a Watcher. Most of these were Watchers. That’s standing out to me, along with something Tawuse Melek said.”

“Hm?”

“I’m noticing that many of those Watchers who were cast down were teachers. They taught things to the humans. They liked to share their knowledge. But Tawuse Melek said that Lucifer didn’t like sharing knowledge, he wanted it kept solely in Heaven.” Above him, Crowley frowned. “So now I’m wondering, what if these angels weren’t cast down because Heaven didn’t want them but because Hell **did?** ”

Crowley sat up. “The _official_ line was that too many of us were getting involved with human women, after Shemyaza and a few others couldn’t be arsed to take No for an answer,” he said after a moment, “I never bothered the women, though. I didn’t teach anything either. All I did was ask questions.”

“Yes and you ask very good questions,” Aziraphale said slowly, “So why might Lucifer want the angel who asks very good questions badly enough to make him Fall?”

Crowley stared at him and had no answer.

Of course, once he had asked the question, it started to nag at Aziraphale. He jotted it onto his notes so he wouldn’t forget, then he started drawing lines and bubbles around his notes. 

_”It’s like we’re all gravitating back together”_ Raziel had said and he wasn’t wrong about that. A surprising number of Fallen Watchers had found their way to the Peacock Angel and all of them had had a high degree of specialized knowledge of some sort. Even more interesting was the number of disaffected angels on the team who had had some sort of connection to the Watchers, either as friends or from related angelic clades. 

The numbers were small, to be sure. Most of the Fallen Watchers were still aligned to Hell, as was Crowley until recently. But here they were. Four of them at the table just the other night, and a few more who couldn’t make it. All of them with specialized knowledge. And Kokabiel, who specialized in asking questions.

That shed new light on Crowley’s rare mentions of Lucifer. “Hanging with the wrong crowd,” he’d put it once. But if Lucifer had governance over knowledge, then why wouldn’t he hang around with a clade of angels who had rather a lot of it? And why wouldn’t he hang around with an angel who asked very good questions? Questions were the beginning of knowledge, after all. No, put like that, it wouldn’t have seemed suspicious.

Something started prickling at the back of Aziraphale’s mind. He jotted down a few more notes.

He felt Crowley move, watched as his demon reached out to tap the manuscript page describing an annotated version of the Fall of Kokabiel. “It didn’t happen that way,” Crowley whispered, “Well… that part did, and that bit’s pretty accurate… but the solidarity stuff… I’m not that good, Angel.”

Aziraphale turned to gaze at him with a serious tenderness that made Crowley look away. “You tried to protect them,” he said softly, “That makes you better than any other.” He reached up to stroke Crowley’s jaw lightly as he kissed his cheek. _Kokabiel – Star of God._ He would bury the knowledge of Crowley’s angelic name deep in his aching heart and treasure it unspoken. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Crowley shrugged. Aziraphale put the pencil down and pushed the notepad and books away, deciding to take a break and return his attention to the fallen angel stuck to him. He stroked Crowley’s jaw and cheekbone again then lightly stroked his nose and under his lips. Crowley didn’t move. Until he abruptly took a sharp breath and groaned, “Oh crap… didn’t we have a meeting today?”

“I asked Tawuse Melek if they would mind postponing it,” Aziraphale said evenly, “They were most apologetic but I honestly don’t think this could have been prevented. But we will eventually have to have that meeting. Will you…?”

Crowley shrugged again, “I should be alright now I know what to expect.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, “And if not, then we’ll just find another way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Watchers](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watcher_\(angel\)), also known as the Grigori, are an interesting group of angels. The most well-known legend about them is that they mated with human women and begot the destructive giants, the Nephilim. The Books of Enoch go into a fair bit of detail about them, including what they taught to humanity.
> 
> [Kokabiel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kokabiel) is a very interesting Watcher. The Books of Enoch list him as a Fallen angel, but the _Sepher Raziel HaMalakh_ lists him not Fallen, but as a holy angel. Another legend says that he Fell out of horror and compassion and became the [Messiah of the Weak.](https://christianity.stackexchange.com/questions/47151/kokabiels-history-forgotten) Kokabiel is associated with astrology and the constellations and his name means "Star of God." Put it all together and well..... ^__^


	11. Not Actually Saskatchewan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vast sheet of ice and snow spread out in all directions. There were no hills, no trees, no rocks, nothing. Above them, the grey sky was just as featureless, nearly the same value as the plain, so that the horizon was nearly impossible to discern. Crowley flexed his pinions then drew his wings in to conserve his warmth. Aziraphale covered himself with one wing and curled the other around Crowley. 
> 
> This was not what either of them were expecting for a shopping trip.

“’ _I open the shop on most weekdays about 9:30 or perhaps 10am. While occasionally I open the shop as early as 8, I have been known not to open until 1, except on Tuesday,_ ’” Raziel read aloud to himself and laughed, “I’m hearing ‘I open whenever I damned well feel like it.’” He tried the door; it was indeed locked. He peered through the windows but the shop was dark under the overcast sky. Then the lock clicked and the door swung open. Raziel stepped through and the door locked again behind him. He looked around. The dull light of the windows was enough for him to see the most magnificent bookstore ever. “Oh **wow**!”

It was enormous, with a large spiral staircase and shelves everywhere, upholstered antique furnishings and that unique smell of old books. Raz stood in the centre of the room and breathed it in. 

“Hello!” Aziraphale appeared from the back of the shop. He had a large black and red snake draped around his neck and shoulders and was carrying a book he’d apparently been reading. “The kettle’s just boiled if you’d like a spot of tea?”

“That’d be great, yeah,” Raziel turned in circles, staring at all the books. His smile was joyous, “These are all yours?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale looked around at them, “The bookshop is really more of a place to keep my collection.”

Raz looked around again, “This is magnificent. **This** is heaven.”

Aziraphale gazed at the snake on his shoulder, his hand drifting up to caress the iridescent black head. “It certainly is to me,” he said with a tender smile.

“Oh geez, hi Crowley! Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“Sss’fine. Hi Razss,” Crowley tucked his head back beneath Aziraphale’s ear.

Aziraphale smiled then looked back at Raz, “You were Heaven’s Scribe, were you not?”

Raziel nodded, “Yeah. ‘Til they hired that Metatron guy as the Voice and told me my position wasn’t needed anymore.” He turned to look at Aziraphale, “You said you had a copy of my book?”

“The _Sepher Raziel HaMalakh_ , yes,” Aziraphale nodded and went straight to a shelf. He took down a book and handed it to Raz, “I’d be interested in knowing your opinion on how accurate it is, if at all.”

“Yeah, let’s take a look,” Raz said, taking it to a desk and carefully turning the pages. After several minutes he said, “It’s pretty good overall but there are some inaccuracies and this bit here is totally wrong. I can make some annotations later if you want.”

“Please,” Aziraphale smiled, “You can borrow it, if you’d like.”

Raz looked up with the most delighted smile, “Can I?” Then his face fell a bit, “I probably shouldn’t be happy you found my book. I’m really sorry about that.”

Aziraphale frowned, “Why?”

Raziel twisted his fingers, “Well… It’s a book of belief, right? I… I thought truth and belief were pretty much the same thing.”

Crowley’s head popped up, “Is that why Aziraphale’s sword worked when the kids said what they believed?”

“Probably,” Raziel nodded, “But it turns out… they’re not the same at all. And look what’s happened.”

“I take your point,” Crowley said.

“We **all** thought truth and belief were equivalent, Razzy,” Tawuse Melek said, “It’s only a mistake in hindsight. You can’t blame yourself for that. **I** didn’t know the humans would break them apart like that.”

Aziraphale turned, slightly startled, “Oh! Hello!”

“Heya, Purloined Principality! Hi Black Snake!”

“Yo, bitch!”

They grinned then turned back to Raz, “Let it go, Razzy. You aren’t responsible for measles making a comeback.”

“Tea is ready, if you’d like some before we get started?” Aziraphale offered.

“Lead the way.”

They followed Aziraphale to the back room, Raziel looking around and nearly walking into shelves as he turned. “This place is so pretty!” he cooed, “I want to come and visit and look at all your books and talk about books ‘cause you love books.”

“Oh please,” Crowley groaned. He slid down off of Aziraphale and behind a shelf to change, then walked into the back room and sprawled on the couch.

“You didn’t have to change,” Raz told him. Crowley just shrugged but his face softened, behind his glasses.

“I found some good stuff,” Tawuse said and pulled out a tablet, thumbing it open, “This is what I’ve got.”

Crowley leaned across the table to inspect the tablet displaying the array of archival scanners. He had a pretty good understanding of what Aziraphale would need and enough understanding of technology to be able to decide on the best options of the available offerings. Automatic pagination was right out, Aziraphale would melt with frantic worry over his delicate books. Turning the pages himself would be slower but Tawuse had stressed they were under no time limit and it really would be better for Aziraphale.

He narrowed it down to three choices and tilted the table to show Aziraphale, describing the qualities of each. With explanations understood, the angel could bring his own better knowledge of archival library handling into the decision. Finally Aziraphale tapped on a picture, “I think that one will do.”

“Great!” Tawuse grinned, “It’ll be here within a fortnight.”

“We can rearrange your office a bit, find a place for it,” Crowley shrugged. Aziraphale nodded.

“Okay, now the servers. I asked Razzy to consult because he works with a massive online archive.”

“That’s me!” Raziel grinned. He pulled out his own tablet and tapped it to bring up some images, “This is what we use, basically. Same rack configurations, same lighting. It’s been functioning very well for us for years and we just won an award, so I feel confident that it will work for you as well. We can use a similar download portal for selecting formats if you want to go that route, which I really do recommend. Readers like having the flexibility to choose whatever format works best with their e-readers so it’s worth the extra server space and programming. Your scanner allows for that so it’ll be a good match.”

Aziraphale spread his hands, “I’m afraid I’m woefully out of date about these things so I am forced to defer to your expertise.”

Raziel waved a hand dismissively, “You’ll love it, I promise you.” He turned to Tawuse, “You said you had a location picked out? How are we wiring it up?”

“Figured I’d let you take a look at it after I acquire it.”

“You haven’t acquired it yet?”

Tawuse grinned, “Black Snake wanted to watch.’

“Yeah I’ve never seen anyone steal a hell realm,” Crowley drawled lazily, “I’d say it can’t be done.”

“Whaddya say? No time like the present?”

“To a hell realm?” Aziraphale said doubtfully.

“Yeah! You guys don’t have to come along if you don’t want to.”

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley and shrugged, “As long as Raziel and I won’t incinerate.”

“Nah,” Tawuse assured him, “Might get a bit chilly though.”

* * * *

‘Chilly’ was an understatement. A vast sheet of ice and snow spread out in all directions. There were no hills, no trees, no rocks, nothing. Above them, the grey sky was just as featureless, nearly the same value as the plain, so that the horizon was nearly impossible to discern. Crowley flexed his pinions then drew his wings in to conserve his warmth. Aziraphale covered himself with one wing and curled the other around Crowley. He glanced curiously at Raziel, whose wings were still snow white but nevertheless had little flecks of iridescent colour at the tips of his feathers, making them look like opals.

“Voila!” Tawuse said, “Ice realm! They aren’t in fashion right now, this one’s been empty for centuries. Trust me, they won’t miss it.”

Aziraphale tucked his wings in closer, trying to trap his own heat. “What was it for?”

“It was used to punish apathy,” Tawuse explained, “If a person froze out their fellows’ suffering and refused to see their pain, they’d be sent here or somewhere like it.”

“That sounds awful!”

Crowley rolled his eyes and sneered, “It’s a hell realm, Angel, it’s not supposed to be a pleasant holiday.”

“Still awful,” Raziel agreed, looking around at the vast expanse of nothingness, like Saskatchewan only emptier, “Why’d they stop?”

Tawuse shrugged, “There’s fashions in eternal torment, too. Though personally I think they just didn’t like the cold.”

“Who does?” Crowley agreed, “Demons are more about the fiery pits of Hell and all that.”

Raziel frowned, “Taz and Penny said the fiery pits got rained out a couple hundred years ago, about the same time as all those leaks started springing up.”

Tawuse waved, “Yeah, that was my fault.”

Crowley’s eyebrows jumped, “You? You extinguished the fiery pits of Hell?”

“Useful for all kinds of things, me,” they shrugged, “Okay, I’m going to change, brace yourselves.” 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley and Crowley kept his gaze on his angel. There was a sound like shattering glass. Aziraphale and Raziel looked up at the towering seraph, in time to see the three pairs of iridescent black and vermilion wings open with the sound of thunder. The Peacock Angel lifted their flaming sword of Truth, turned the tip down and raised it high. Then with a mighty cry, they slammed the sword into the earth. The whole hell realm rumbled then began to change.

Within minutes, the vast white plain had been replaced by an enormous warehouse. Server racks stretched in every direction, as far as the eye could see, eerily lit by blue light that appeared to have no source. 

“Jesus Christ and Mister Rogers!” Raziel breathed, “Now **this** is a server farm!” He started walking down the nearest aisle, nodding with satisfaction, calling out tweaks as he saw them needed. Finally he gave a thumbs-up, “This should do great!”

Crowley looked around, craning his neck to see how far the racks of servers went. He couldn’t see the ends of them in any direction. He looked back at Aziraphale and frowned.

* * * *

“I’d like to get together with you and Raphael,” Tawuse said quietly, back at the bookshop, “You guys have some pretty recent intel that’s relevant to something we’ve been pursuing for a while. Are you willing to share?”

Aziraphale passed a cup of hot cocoa to Crowley, partly to get some warmth into his demon after the cold of the ice realm, but also as a way to get a read on him. Aziraphale knew he could be trusting to the point of destruction and while Crowley was naturally suspicious, he had slightly better instincts. Crowley nodded slowly, “Tomorrow fine?”

“Yes. I’ll text you,” they smiled then just… weren’t there anymore. It wasn’t even like they vanished or blipped out, they just hadn’t been there.

“Cool trick,” Crowley murmured. He looked out at the bookshop. Raziel was lying in the middle of the shop floor with a goofy grin on his face. Crowley started to laugh, “Raz, are you okay?”

Raz tipped his head up to grin at him, “Yeah.” He sat up and looked around again, still grinning, “He’s made a beautiful heaven for himself, much better than the one Upstairs.”

Crowley smiled, “I can’t argue with that.” 

Raziel stuck out a hand and Crowley helped him to his feet. “Text me your number then I’ll get out of your hair,” he said, grinning. He kissed Crowley’s cheeks and whispered something that made Crowley smile again.

Aziraphale stepped forward with a wrapped package, “Your book.”

Raziel beamed, “I will have this back to you along with my notes, my friend!” Then he kissed Aziraphale’s cheeks, “Thanks for having me! I’ll catch you guys later, okay?”

“Any time, Raz,” Crowley said fondly. He locked the door behind Raz then turned to follow Aziraphale back to the back room.

Aziraphale was watching him carefully, “What’s bothering you?”

Crowley didn’t answer for a few moments. He took out his phone and stared at it thoughtfully. Finally he looked up at Aziraphale, “Seems like a lot of space for one bookshop. This is a 512 gigabyte phone, the average e-book takes up only a few megabytes at the most.”

Aziraphale shrugged, “Perhaps they’re anticipating future expansion?”

“ **That** much?” Crowley lifted a sceptical eyebrow, “There were server racks for miles, I couldn’t see the end of them!” He shook his head, “Starting to wonder if something else is going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melek Taus and the fires of Hell: One Yazidi legend says that Melek Taus cried for thousands of years and his tears [extinguished the fires of Hell.](http://www.yezidisinternational.org/abouttheyezidipeople/religion/) In GO, we never see any fire pits in Hell, but we do see an awful lot of leaks...
> 
> The Hell Realms: I've borrowed this [Naraka](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naraka_\(Buddhism\)) from Buddhism, as the descriptions of the ice Naraka fits what I was aiming for. The Hell Realms are not part of either GO canon that I can tell.
> 
> Yes Raz's archive is exactly what you think it is
> 
> Yes Saskatchewan really is flat.


	12. The Call Is Coming From Inside The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale was staring into the middle distance, looking like he was being struck by lightning – which, in a way, he was. Pieces of the puzzle rearranged themselves in his mind, showing a new pattern-
> 
> -questions turning in on themselves, splaying open to reveal answers-
> 
> ”’No one else was answering them,’” he breathed, still staring at the patterns only he could see, “You said She was surprised to receive your prayer, what if it’s not because you’re a demon? What if it’s because no prayers are getting through?”

“How long have you known Archangel Raphael? You never mentioned you knew her,” Aziraphale asked quietly.

“I only met her three times,” Crowley shrugged, “That was the fourth. We didn’t hang out much, mostly just ran into each other while we were travelling.”

“It’s just curious that you’ve never mentioned her,” Aziraphale said again.

Crowley grinned, “Why, Angel, are you jealous?”

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow at him over his reading glasses, “Archangel Raphael disappeared from Heaven thousands of years ago. No one’s seen or heard anything about her since and eventually they gave her place to Sandalphon.”

“That’s why I never mentioned her,” Crowley said softly, “She didn’t want to be found. Things got bad enough to drive out Heaven’s healer, Angel.”

Aziraphale nodded, mollified, “How did you meet?”

“She pulled me out of the lake of sulphur,” Crowley said, “She didn’t know who I was or anything about me. I was just another Fallen angel she tried her best to heal.”

“I see,” Aziraphale said quietly. He looked thoughtful. He’d always wondered why Crowley would even bother to chat up an angel on the wall of Eden, after everything he’d been through at Heaven’s hands. 

“Last time I saw her, she was on her way to Herculaneum. That was in 79. Didn’t know if she’d got out when Vesuvius blew.”

Aziraphale sighed, “Yes, that was a most unpleasant experience.” He finished his tea and wiped his mouth then stood up from the breakfast table, “Almost time. Shall we go downstairs?” He offered his hand to Crowley, who took it with a smile. 

* * * *

They had just finished setting up the tea tray when they heard voices and a rap at the door. ”It says closed.” “Yeah! Read the sign.” “…Is he ever actually open?” “Nope! Oh the Yelp reviews are hilarious!”

Crowley grinned and shook his head. Aziraphale went to admit their guests. “Good morning! The kettle’s just boiled.”

“Hiya, Pilfered Principality!” 

“Yo, um…” Aziraphale tried but just couldn’t finish it, to Crowley’s great amusement.

“Yo, bitch!” Crowley called, grinning.

“Aziraphale,” Raphael came forward to clasp his hands and kiss his cheeks. Today she was dressed in an embroidered kaftan of ocean blues, her locs bound up in a matching headwrap with a complex knot, with large gold hoops in her ears and iridescent copper and gold powder dusting her cheekbones. She glided over to Crowley to greet him with the same warmth, “Crowley.”

“Hey, Rafe! Wow, we’re up to five now, this is getting to be a habit!”

Aziraphale brought out the tea tray and they all sat down.

“Okay, here’s what we’ve got,” Tawuse Melek said without preamble, “It turns out God’s just figured out that Her orders aren’t being carried out the way She intends them.”

Crowley arched a sceptical eyebrow, “Oh just figured it out?”

“Yes. Recently. I mean **really** recently. As in _when She talked to you guys_ recently!”

“ _What?_ ”

Aziraphale stared, “But… how is that possible?”

“ **That’s** what we want to know!”

“You said you talked to Them two hundred and sixty years ago, surely **you** said a few words about it?”

“You bet I did! That’s why I’m all, How is any of this a surprise to You?!”

“I did get the impression I was talking to a really disconnected CEO,” Crowley said thoughtfully. Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “But if God’s supposed to be omniscient, why would They not know?” He noticed how Aziraphale’s expression changed. 

Tawuse nodded, “That’s why we need to know what you know, what’s Heaven like recently?”

“Nasty place,” Crowley said, “They’re cold and they’re verbally abusive and they were just flat-out cruel to Aziraphale.”

“How so?” Raphael asked.

“They sent him out to watch over the Flood, made him watch the whole thing. And they wouldn’t let him save anyone. He was just supposed to stand there and watch everyone die! They wouldn’t let him help!”

“Well… I… sort of helped,” Aziraphale admitted, “They said I couldn’t help anyone live. They didn’t say I couldn’t… take away their pain… and…”

Raphael took his hand. “So did I,” she said softly, “And if you did wrong then so did I, and I will stand beside you.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and nodded in gratitude.

“Oh that’s just great,” Crowley snarled, “So **two** angels having to help people _die_ and a demon saving kids, and that’s not all kinds of fucked up?”

Tawuse nodded, “No disagreement here, Black Snake. That Flood was the last straw for several of our team, they walked out after that.”

“It didn’t end there, either. They sent him up to Golgotha to watch that carpenter’s kid die, then they sent him off to watch Vesuvius wipe out Pompeii and Herculaneum. And it didn’t stop, either! Saint Helens in 1980, Sumatra in 2004…”

“There were quite a few miraculous escapes from those incidents,” Tawuse observed.

Crowley nodded, “By that time I’d worked out what they were doing and I went with him. I’m a demon, I know torture when I see it! Make the softest angel watch people die horribly, over and over, and forbid him to help? - they were torturing him! And it was all on that bitch Gabriel’s orders!”

“He smiled, the whole time,” Aziraphale said softly, “Every time.”

“’Shut your stupid mouth and die,’” Crowley growled, “I should have bitten him. Still wish I hadn’t missed him with the fire.”

Raphael shook her head slowly. “I honestly don’t know what happened to Gabriel, why he became like that. It sounds like he’s gotten much worse.” She squeezed Aziraphale’s hand again, “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Crowley, thank you for supporting him.”

“He’s my best friend,” Crowley said, thrown off kilter by this. 

Aziraphale turned and gazed at him with the tenderest smile. “There are times I think I would have broken, if not for him, holding me together,” he said quietly. Crowley swallowed and had to look away. “He won’t thank me for saying this, but he’s really much closer to what an angel should be than what’s currently Upstairs. The last time I was up there, all they did was scream abuse.” Aziraphale sighed. “That was during the run up to the Apocalypse, when they were arming up. And I thought ‘how is this any different from Crowley’s descriptions of Hell?’”

“It isn’t,” Crowley growled. 

Raphael and Tawuse looked at each other. “See, that’s what I’ve been investigating,” Tawuse said, “We don’t think it ended with the Rebellion.”

“Well, no,” Aziraphale agreed, “Gabriel said things hadn’t been settled. That’s why they wanted the war.”

“I think it goes deeper than that.”

Raphael nodded, “We have reason to suspect that Heaven was infiltrated.”

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other. Then Aziraphale looked away, very thoughtful. He was very quiet for several minutes, casting little glances at Crowley. “What?” said Crowley.

“That makes sense,” Aziraphale said at last, “Remember what I was thinking about last night?”

Crowley frowned, “Walk us through it, then.”

Aziraphale gave him a long look. Crowley nodded once and looked away, then leaned back in his chair to listen. Aziraphale took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “Well… You were very surprised that Crowley knew so many of the people already on your team… It turns out they’re mostly from the same angelic clade, called the Watchers.”

Tawuse nodded, “Yeah, they were behind the Nephilim. Got thrown out for ‘fraternizing with the daughters of men’, which they used as a very broad blanket.”

Crowley nodded, “Shemyaza and a couple of the others figured ‘no’ wasn’t a word they should listen to from a human.”

“Quite so,” Tawuse nodded, “But Taz’s relationship was entirely consenting. He courted her properly and had a marriage ceremony according to her people’s customs, and he was a great parent. Their son was really, really clumsy but he wasn’t malicious. Taz wasn’t even remotely on the level of Shemyaza but he was punished with the same harshness.”

“And why was Crowley punished at all? He never bothered the human women, all he did was ask questions. That’s what started me thinking. All the Watchers possess highly specialized knowledge and you said that Lucifer used to be the angel of knowledge.”

Tawuse nodded, “Yup.”

“The thing is, the Watchers were also sharing their knowledge with the humans. And I don’t think that was a deliberate betrayal of Heaven, I suspect it was rather more the humans asked questions and the Watchers answered them because who doesn’t like talking about things they know? But you said that Lucifer was rather possessive that way.”

Tawuse nodded again, “Okay, that makes sense. So?”

“So, I thought, what if the Watchers Fell not because Heaven didn’t want them, but because Hell did? But your suggestion that Heaven was infiltrated makes even **more** sense out of that. If that was the plan, then it would be very much in Hell’s interests to get this clade of very clever angels out of the way, **especially** Crowley. They would want to get **him** out of the way before he could start asking very good questions and get wise to what they were doing. Because he **would.** ”

Tawuse turned thoughtful. “Get them out of the way then keep them busy doing shitwork so they stay out of way and won’t ever figure it out.” They looked at Raphael, “Yeah that does make sense.”

“And if Lucifer was the angel of knowledge at the time, then why wouldn’t he hang about with a clade of highly knowledgeable angels? It wouldn’t raise anyone’s suspicions but it _would_ allow him to ascertain their weaknesses and find some charges to trump up.”

Crowley’s hand thumped onto the arm of his chair. Aziraphale reached to clasp his other hand. Crowley stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and curled his fingers into Aziraphale’s. 

They were all silent for several minutes, pondering the implications of the connections Aziraphale had made. 

Finally, Crowley looked up and said, “So who’s their inside agent? They must have one. It’d have to be someone high up, they have to be influencing the society of Heaven from the top down. So who is it? I’d be pretty certain it’s not Gabriel.” He glanced at Aziraphale and did a double take. 

Because Aziraphale was staring into the middle distance, looking like he was being struck by lightning – which, in a way, he was. Pieces of the puzzle rearranged themselves in his mind, showing a new pattern-

_”To talk to me is to talk to God”_

-questions turning in on themselves, splaying open to reveal answers-

_”One of the things the false god stole was the name of the true God”_

”’No one else was answering them,’” he breathed, still staring at the patterns only he could see, “You said She was surprised to receive your prayer, what if it’s not because you’re a demon? What if it’s because no prayers are getting through?”

Crowley eyed him cautiously, “…Angel?”

“Nothing gets in, and what goes out gets corrupted,” Aziraphale inhaled sharply as the pattern suddenly resolved into an answer, “It’s Metatron.”

Rapahel stared. “You’re suggesting _the Voice of God_ is an agent of Hell.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said simply.

“What was that all about, anyways?” Crowley said, “When did God start needing a voice other than Their own?”

“Officially, we were told it was to help manage the prayer load as the population of humanity increased.”

“And when did he start?”

“It was after the Rebellion. A hundred years or so before the Flood, I believe,” Raphael said thoughtfully, “And things did start to get… rather more strict, around then.”

“And who is he?” Crowley said, “’Cause he’s not one of you lot, he’s not one of the first seven. Eight, rather, sorry. He’s not one of the first eight, so where did he come from?”

Raphael and Tawuse looked at each other blankly, then looked at Crowley. Then they all looked at Aziraphale. 

“Well,” Aziraphale said, “I suppose I had better go and crack the books.” Then he glanced at Tawuse Melek and asked, “What are the odds of getting that scanner just a little bit sooner?”

Tawuse grinned and winked, “It’d take a miracle.”


	13. The Angel of Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was Aziraphale doing what he did best. This was Aziraphale doing what he loved. _Research._ And it was even better than watching him eat!

The first thing the angel had done was turn on his computer and load his browser with search engines. Crowley had watched over his shoulder for several minutes, a little surprised by the long strings of Boolean search terms Aziraphale used. “How do you think I find the books to buy them?” Aziraphale said when Crowley asked about it. 

“How do you have google-fu this strong but still don’t have a smartphone?” Crowley shook his head.

“That may have to change,” Aziraphale said, a little distractedly. He ripped a page off his notepad and got up from his chair, pausing to kiss Crowley’s cheek before striding off purposefully through the bookshelves. Crowley shifted into his snake form so he could tag along while staying out of the way. It wasn’t often he got to see Aziraphale full-tilt in his element. And he was just getting started! 

He curled up on top of a bookshelf and watched as Aziraphale wandered among the stacks, pulling out books. Sometimes he pulled off the contents of entire shelves, searching for the right tome. Then he piled them all in stacks beside his desk. He went into the settings of his computer and made a few changes, then repositioned the keyboard. Finally he made a cup of cocoa, put his reading glasses on, and sat down. 

“Why do you even wear those things?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale glanced up, “Hm? Oh. I’m slightly far-sighted.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Well, I was supposed to guard the gate. That’s not exactly close-in work,” Aziraphale shrugged. 

Crowley stared at him. “Huh!” he said finally, “Six thousand years, never knew you were far-sighted.”

“You could have asked sooner,” Aziraphale smiled. He put his gloves on and said, “You might as well get comfortable. I probably won’t be terribly interesting for a while.”

_Oh Angel, that’s where you’re wrong,_ Crowley thought. He looped himself into a plushly padded basket that Aziraphale had placed nearby and settled down to watch.

Because this was Aziraphale doing what he did best. This was Aziraphale doing what he loved. _Research._ And it was even better than watching him eat! 

Because the more immersed the angel got, the more animated he became. His face showed his reactions to what he was reading - eyes widening and narrowing, lips twitching, nose wrinkling, brows flexing as his eyes skimmed back and forth among the pages. Aziraphale’s face told such a story that Crowley could almost follow his progress just by watching.

It wasn’t long (to Crowley) before Aziraphale started typing notes into the computer and Crowley realized that he had switched the layout to a Dvorak one-handed mode. Back when small Dictaphone tape recorders were a thing, Crowley had offered him one, but Aziraphale found that he lost focus more easily if he was switching back and forth between spoken and written language, so he preferred to stay with written.

Time passed. The angel stayed deeply immersed in hyperfocus, noticing nothing but the flow of words and the turn of pages. Occasionally Crowley got up to change and get Aziraphale a fresh cocoa. “Sorry, Angel,” he said, reaching for the computer, “Need to borrow this for a sec.” He pushed a notepad and pencil beneath Aziraphale’s fingers. 

Aziraphale barely twitched. He jotted a few more notes down but stayed mostly absorbed in turning pages. 

“Your scanner’s set up,” Crowley said, “Here’s your keyboard back. I put those notes in for you.”

Aziraphale made a soft noise of something resembling acknowledgement, to Crowley’s amusement. After a few more minutes (to Crowley) he said, “Could I trouble you to start scanning these ones?” and waved his ‘free’ hand vaguely at one of the stacks of books. 

Crowley smiled fondly. “Of course, Angel.”

* * * *

Once some of the books were scanned and appearing in the computer’s software, Aziraphale nearly double-timed. To Crowley’s surprise, Aziraphale immediately started keyword searches on the books, letting them run while he continued his real-time searching on the books not yet scanned. 

Crowley brought him another cocoa and watched the notes appearing on the screen. They were jumbled and he knew that, later, Aziraphale would comb them into patterns and make sense of it all. But some of it… “Am I reading this right?” he took off his sunglasses and stared at the screen, frowning. “A _human_?! Is this saying Metatron was a _human_?!” 

Aziraphale nodded, never looking up, “The grandfather of Noah, apparently. The Noah who built the Ark. I must admit, this is the first I’ve heard of it, too.”

“After all that nonsense with the Garden, They go and promote **a human** to be the Voice of God?!”

Aziraphale paused. “…When you put it that way, it does seem a little suspicious.”

“ _ **’A little?!’**_ And if someone corrupted him first and steered him into this position?”

Aziraphale turned in his chair to stare up at Crowley. Then he smiled. “You really do ask **very** good questions, my dear.” He turned to look at his notes and glanced at the time stamps. “Good Lord, is that the time? Is that _the date?_ ”

“Yeah, your scanner arrived the next afternoon, a few days ago.”

“Oh my dear, I’m terribly sorry! You must be starving!”

Crowley smiled, “Not at all, Angel. Figure you might be, though.”

“I do feel a bit peckish,” Aziraphale said, as if he hadn’t gone several days without budging from his chair.

“Sushi?” Crowley offered. 

Aziraphale smiled his 1000 watt smile, “That would be lovely!”

They walked in silence to Aziraphale’s favourite sushi restaurant. The chef smiled warmly and immediately set to work on a selection of the angel’s favourites and a selection of sashimi, cut _kaku-zukuri_ , for Crowley.

“I’m afraid I’m going to go on a bit of a tear when we get back,” Aziraphale said, after he’d eaten a third of his meal in relative silence. 

Crowley paused to swallow a cube of salmon sashimi. “Hm?”

“There’s a quote that I keep coming back to. I need to find the source. I **think** I have a copy of the book but I’m not sure exactly where I put it or if it’s in the same place it was. After Adam restored the bookshop, I found quite a few things in different places.”

“What’s the significance of the quote?”

Aziraphale paused and looked at Crowley doubtfully, “You… probably have never seen Metatron?” Crowley shook his head. “Once I find the quote, I’ll show you. It’s really rather disturbing, in the context of all of this.”

“So you **are** seeing something in all this?”

“Oh yes, a pattern is definitely emerging. I think you might be right.” Aziraphale shifted to face Crowley more directly, “You said something that’s been bothering me quite a bit. You said God is omniscient. But if She’s omniscient, why did She ask what I did with my sword?”

Crowley started to answer automatically then stopped himself and thought about it. “Well.. If They were testing… no, wait, hang on, you’re right, let’s think about this one literally.”

“Has She ever _said_ She’s omniscient?” Aziraphale asked, “From what I’ve been able to tell, you’re slightly older than I am - do you remember Her ever saying anything about being all-knowing?”

Crowley blinked. He thought about it but had to admit he didn’t. “So how do we know She’s omniscient?”

“We’ve always been **told** She’s omniscient.”

“But by whom?”

“Yes, exactly. By the Archangels.”

“And the Archdemons,” Crowley agreed, thoughtful, “I think you might be on to something, Angel.”

“And if I can find the source of that quote that’s been bothering me, this might all just make sense.”

* * * *

“So what’s this book look like, then?” Crowley asked, when they returned to the bookshop. They stood in the foyer, looking critically at the shelves. 

“It’s just a little thin thing with a blue cover,” Aziraphale said, “I thought I’d put it over on this shelf but I’ve gone through it twice already.”

“Which others have you done?”

“These.”

“Well, that eliminates… an eighth,” Crowley shrugged. He looked at Aziraphale, “You start at that end, I’ll start at the other.”

“Mind the bindings. The glue on some of them is quite fragile.” Crowley held up his gloved hands and Aziraphale smiled with fond gratitude. 

They got started. Shelf by shelf, they pulled off the books, looking through them in case the tiny volume was caught between larger tomes, and put them back. As he worked his way through, Crowley found several small thin blue books, calling out “Is this it, Angel?” each time he found one. 

“I didn’t realize I had so many small thin blue books,” Aziraphale grumbled. His fingers found a thin blue spine, “Aha! … No, that’s not it either.” 

Nearly half way around the bookshop now, Crowley hated the thought but it had to be said. “What if it’s not here? Is it still in print?”

“I’m not sure,” Aziraphale sighed, “It was a small-run vanity printing to begin with. Mind you, quite a lot of these are.”

Crowley nodded, “They wouldn’t interest you as much if they weren’t. You’ve never been much for mass market.” He pulled off another rack of books and a small blue book fell out from under them. He stooped to pick it up, “Huh. This one looks weird. Is this it, Angel?”

Aziraphale looked around, expecting to be disappointed again. “Hmm… it’s…” his eyes widened, “Yes! Yes, I do believe that **is** it!” He hurried over to take the tiny book, not much more than a pamphlet, from Crowley’s hands. He brought it over to his desk and opened it while Crowley put the books back, then came to look over the angel’s shoulder. 

“It’s quite a confusing little book,” Aziraphale told him, “It’s written more like a conversation. The author rambles quite a bit and provides no sources for her statements and conclusions. Her rambling make little sense so I just sort of put it out of the way and never bothered with it much. But in this context, they **do** make sense. But because it is quite rambly, it’ll take me a bit to find what I’m looking for, even though it’s a small book.”

“Scan it and keyword search?” Crowley suggested.

Aziraphale smiled his 500 watt smile. “I **should** learn to use the new scanner, shouldn’t I?”

Crowley smiled indulgently, “No time like the present, Angel.”

Two hours later, he was staring in horror at what Aziraphale was showing him. “You’re right, Angel, this **does** make sense.” He met the angel’s eyes, “Think we’d better tell the boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Metatron](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metatron). He's quite an odd angel. He's not mentioned in the oldest books and there's debate about when he actually appeared. He is indeed considered to have been Enoch. He's considered to be the Voice of God, with much debate over a) what exactly does that mean, and b) when did this happen. Metatron was popularly depicted by Alan Rickman in the film _Dogma._ That seems to have brought him into public awareness (although readers of _Good Omens_ knew about him years before) and he's been portrayed just about everywhere since.


	14. Somebody To Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long baths with Crowley had been an irregular pleasure he’d enjoyed for many years, but only when Crowley needed to shed.
> 
> He leaned his head back to press his cheek against Crowley’s, staying that way for a few moments before quietly asking, “What’s this really about, dearest?”
> 
> Crowley was silent for so long, Aziraphale thought he either wasn’t going to answer, or hadn’t heard. Finally, Crowley whispered, “Gratitude, I guess.” After another long moment, “I didn’t mean to Fall. I never understood why asking questions was such a damnable crime. You’ve given me an answer I can live with.”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Crowley said, disconnecting the call and putting his phone away.

Aziraphale nodded, “That should be fine. That will give me some time to organize all of this.” He gestured at the mass of notes he’d taken. He rolled his shoulders and winced, “Goodness, I’m a bit stiff. I didn’t realize how sore I was.”

“You’ve been sitting hunched over that desk for six days, Angel,” Crowley smiled tenderly, “You should go take a hot bath or something.”

Aziraphale turned to him with the puppy eyes and the 300 watt smile. “I really should put these books away first. Would you mind…?”

Crowley smiled fondly at him, “Of course, Angel.” And he went upstairs to draw a bath. 

Back in his Mayfair flat, Crowley had had a massive modern tub of the sort that made water conservationists cringe. Aziraphale had had a clawfoot tub that was well over a century old but only just fit one person if that person didn’t have Crowley’s height. When Crowley had accepted Aziraphale’s offer to move into the bookshop flat, he’d made it over into something they could both be comfortable with. That included expanding the tub into something that fit. He started the water running then went back downstairs to get some wine. 

Aziraphale glanced at him quizzically, seeing him with two glasses and the wine bottle. Crowley shrugged, “Payback for all those times you’ve helped me shed.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale smiled his 500 watt smile, “You really don’t have to.” But he followed Crowley up the stairs anyways.

Crowley had gone all out. There were LED candles (he insisted they never use real candles again and since Aziraphale had no further reason to contact Heaven, he readily agreed), fluffy towels warming, and a bath melt in Aziraphale’s favourite fragrances turning the water to liquid silk. Aziraphale smiled warmly and went to hang up his clothes and get his bathrobe. When he came back, Crowley was already in the water. Aziraphale smiled his 500 watt smile and went to join him. 

“You don’t mind?” Crowley asked, a trifle hesitantly.

“Of course not, my dearest!” Aziraphale smiled again, “Candlelight does such lovely things with your eyes.” He lay back in Crowley’s arms and let him enfold him. 

It wasn’t the first time. Long baths with Crowley had been an irregular pleasure he’d enjoyed for many years, but only when Crowley needed to shed. He hated shedding so Aziraphale did his best to make him feel safe while he was vulnerable and help the process along as quickly as possible. A warm bath kept him warm and helped to soften the skin. Or so Crowley claimed — Aziraphale suspected that was an excuse, like so many of Crowley’s reasons for needing to snuggle up to the angel as a snake. He seemed to find it easier to give and receive physical affection that way. 

He leaned his head back to press his cheek against Crowley’s, staying that way for a few moments before quietly asking, “What’s this really about, dearest?”

Crowley was silent for so long, Aziraphale thought he either wasn’t going to answer, or hadn’t heard. Finally, Crowley whispered, “Gratitude, I guess.” After another long moment, “I didn’t mean to Fall. I never understood why asking questions was such a damnable crime. You’ve given me an answer I can live with.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale reached up to cup his beloved’s cheek and turned to look at him. 

Crowley sighed, “If you’re right, I’m going to feel like the universe’s biggest dupe.”

“Oh I doubt that,” Aziraphale said, “You’re very clever and you do ask very good questions. Any plan against you would have to have been carefully thought out.”

Crowley lifted a sceptical eyebrow, “My lot aren’t exactly long on brains, Angel.”

“Well **somebody** is boxing clever or they wouldn’t have been able to infiltrate Heaven to the extent that they have.”

Crowley found he had no answer to that. He stayed pressed cheek to cheek with Aziraphale for a few more minutes, then coaxed him to lean forward, finding a flannel and gently scrubbing his shoulders. Aziraphale sighed and made a soft sound of relief, “You’re right. I really didn’t mean to lose that much time.”

“It’s not often I get to see you like that,” Crowley said softly, “You’re really something, Angel.”

Aziraphale didn’t know what to say to that. He hunched further forward for Crowley to wash his back and thought about how to ask what he wanted to ask, without tripping Crowley into another memory trap. “Who was Taz to you?” he asked, “You seemed very glad to see him. You both seemed very close.”

Crowley chuckled, working the flannel gently over Aziraphale’s spine. “Taz was just about the worst angel ever to come out of Heaven,” he said, “He tried so hard but just couldn’t do anything right. At least, that’s what the angel who brought him over told me. I asked if he really couldn’t get it right or was it more they didn’t **let** him do anything right. They called me insolent for that.” He chuckled again and sighed, “They dumped him on us because they were tired of him. He was so... I guess now we'd call it depressed, he didn't even talk. For a long time I thought he _couldn't_ talk, he'd just shrug at anything anyone said to him. I put him on nebulas. You can’t screw up nebulas, it’s impossible. They’re like finger-painting, anything you do to a nebula comes out gorgeous. You can trip over an asteroid belt, faceplant full out onto the firmament and lose your entire load of stardust and they’ll just say ‘Oo, nice nebula!’”

Aziraphale smirked a bit, “Was that you?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that it was me who did a full-body faceplant and accidentally created the Veil Nebula,” Crowley said with a perfectly straight face. Aziraphale giggled. Crowley worked the flannel down Aziraphale’s arms. “Taz liked to play with them, he’d sculpt things with the stardust. We’d tease him about it, ‘Who’s ever going to see a horse head out here?’ but really, they were remarkable, we loved them. He made one that looked like a Virtue’s helmet, made another that looked like an eagle. Never thought the humans would actually be able to see them, then they built that big space telescope and now they’re seeing all kinds of Taz’s work.

Aziraphale badly wanted to ask which one was the nebula Taz and Crowley had created together. He didn’t. Instead he said, “And, they’ve got pictures of a black hole he created?”

“Both of us, yeah,” Crowley nodded. He scooped up water to rinse Aziraphale’s arms, “Black holes took skill and speed. You had get your timing right, timing and distance. You had to be close enough to set off the supernova but far enough out not to get caught in it when it started collapsing. We lost a couple of angels that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley shrugged, “Taz had a knack for it, he was good with them. We used to skeet stars at them, see how close we could get them without them falling in.”

“He said his current assignment involved them somehow?”

“Yeah. Bit of a surprise,” Crowley sighed, “Most demons… We don’t really want any reminders of what we did in the past.”

“Ah. I believe I understand.”

“Speaking of which, you never mentioned you used to teach guardian angels?”

Aziraphale bit his lips but nodded. “I did say I believe I understand.”

“Oh.”

But Aziraphale patted Crowley’s knee and rubbed it, chuckling, “Though I didn’t realize they’d given me that nickname.” He sighed and leaned back against Crowley’s chest, “No, Gabriel did not take at all well to my methods of instruction.”

“I thought it was brilliant, an object lesson like that?” Crowley said softly, “And they’ve remembered it, not just the method but the point. That’s good teaching.”

“Kind of you to say so.”

Crowley nuzzled Aziraphale’s hair and whispered, “You understood what really happened there, in the Garden. I didn’t think anyone would.”

Aziraphale reached up to snake his fingers into Crowley’s hair and smiled, “Well, I had the benefit of inside information.”

“True,” Crowley chuckled and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek. 

Aziraphale smiled tenderly at him, “You seem happy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that outside these walls. You only ever laugh when you’re with me.”

Crowley fell quiet. “Not much to laugh at in Hell,” he said at last, “Not jealous, are you, Angel?”

“Of course not!” Aziraphale smiled and reached up to touch Crowley’s cheek again, “Seeing you happy makes me happy, too.”

“I guess we’ve got that in common then,” Crowley chuckled, earning another of Aziraphale’s 500 watt smiles, “Water’s getting a bit cold. I’ve got towels warming.”

Aziraphale sat up and braced his hands on the tub sides for leverage, “Sounds lovely. Are you sleeping tonight?”

“Might do,” Crowley accepted Aziraphale’s hand to help him out of the water, then grabbed the warm towels and wrapped one around his angel. 

Aziraphale caught him in the other towel and used it to draw him in close. “Might I borrow your phone, in that case?”

“ _More_ reading, Angel? Six days wasn’t enough?” Crowley teased.

“A fair point. I’ll keep it to light reading. Perhaps watch a movie if that won’t disturb you too much.”

“Shouldn’t. You can use the earplugs if you want sound,” Crowley found himself swaying with his angel, following some internal rhythm. 

“Or I can just use the closed captioning,” Aziraphale shrugged. He slid his arms around Crowley and felt Crowley’s arms tighten around him, until they were in a close hug. “Come to bed and sleep, my dear, and I will rest with you.”

Crowley bent to press his face under Aziraphale’s ear, “Mmm… Have to admit, I liked that.”

Aziraphale sighed happily, “So did I.”

* * * *

In the darkest part of the night, Aziraphale lay in bed, well snugged up under the covers, reading. He felt Crowley roll over and he turned to see Crowley staring at him. “What is it?”

“She told me there’d be a reckoning and that Seraph has made us practically unstoppable,” Crowley whispered, “Who’s **doing** this reckoning?”


	15. 3 000 Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Three thousand years,” Tawuse Melek whispered. They rose and their voice rose as well, shaking their hands, “Three _**thousand**_ years I’ve been working on this problem, trying to figure out what the **heck** was going on, and **this!** This _**brilliant** motherfucker_ only goes and figures it all out in six days. What a fucking genius.”
> 
> Crowley leaned back into a sprawl to beam proudly at his angel, “Yeahhhhhh, he is that.”

Aziraphale set the tea tray down though he doubted anyone was going to want to drink much after what he had to say. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant meeting but some habits were hard to break. Tawuse Melek was wearing an indigo hoody and an earcuff with a single peacock feather on it. Raphael was wearing a gown of buttercup yellow, her locs loose under a matching headband, with gold dusting her cheekbones. Her smile was warm and genuine, so different from Gabriel’s plastic smile of thinly disguised hostility. After finding what he’d found, he was glad she had escaped Heaven before she, too, could lose her Heavenly love.

He poured the tea and took his place beside Crowley.

Tawuse Melek wasted no time, “Okay, Purloined Principality… Whatcha got for me?”

“Rather a lot, I’m afraid.” Aziraphale took out the charts and notes he’d assembled out of his raw notes.

“Walk us through it, then.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “It appears that Metatron was Enoch, the grandfather of Noah who built the Ark. That family was quite beloved of God, if you’ll recall.” Raphael and Tawuse nodded. “But he **was** human and upon being assimilated into Heaven – yes Crowley, I know, stop smirking – he appears to have carried the human culture with him and influenced the culture of Heaven quite a bit.”

“That makes sense,” Raphael nodded, “That goes along with what Muriel was saying and the time frame is about right.”

“And if he’d positioned himself as the Voice of God, he would have the authority to make that influence,” Tawuse agreed.

“Quite so. And then I noticed something else,” Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow, “Have you ever seen Metatron?”

Tawuse shook their head, “No.” Raphael shook her head as well. 

“He looks rather like this,” Aziraphale set down a print-out of an image, “And this. And this. And this. And this.”

“So an old white guy,” Raphael said in a dry voice.

“Exactly. But remember the old days? When She asked me about my sword, She sounded female.”

“Shekhinah, yes,” Raphael agreed.

“Crowley’s referred to God as They on several occasions, so I presume God presented as either plural or agender when the Watchers were an active clade.”

“Yeah, Elohim,” Crowley nodded.

“I remembered something from a very obscure source – ‘One of the things the false god stole is the name of the true God.’” Aziraphale drew out the little book and turned to one of the pages he had flagged, “This source is a terribly obscure little book but it does go into a fair amount of detail about this ‘false god, enemy of Sophia.’”

Raphael looked at Tawuse, “That sounds Gnostic.” Tawuse shrugged.

“The book says ‘He asks Her to give him the Earth and Her human children yet unborn.’ After She refuses, he ‘tries to claim all creation as his own and himself as the one and only God.’ The book goes on to state plainly, ‘to call the enemy of Sophia ‘Satan’ is a deliberate mistranslation. He should be called what he is, the false god.’”

Tawuse frowned, and reached out, “Can I see that?” Aziraphale gave them the book and they started reading the flagged pages.

Crowley turned to Aziraphale, “Remember that weird church Tad Dowling dragged me and Warlock to in the United States?”

Aziraphale nodded, “Yes and you called me up all frantic because nothing happened.” He looked back at Tawuse and Raphael, “Crowley can’t walk across consecrated ground without getting scorched. He shouldn’t have been able to sit in a church for any length of time.”

Crowley nodded, “Same with a synagogue or a mosque.”

“But he got through a whole service without so much as a sunburn. But it wasn’t a Satanic church.”

Tawuse Melek sat up, “Hang on - _what?_ What are you telling me, Purloined Principality?”

“It appears that Metatron is not only the Voice of God, but has usurped the face of God as well.”

Raphael tapped an image, “So all these pictures of God…”

Aziraphale nodded, “Are pictures of Metatron. Yes. **He** is the false god who stole the name of the true God.”

Everyone stared at him. Even Crowley was silent. Aziraphale chewed his lip for a moment then took a sip of tea and went on. “Crowley mentioned that the Flood was more like something Hell would do and I think he’s right about that. Quite a lot of what Heaven has been doing and preaching are far more in line with the expectations of Hell, especially lately. As Crowley pointed out, Enoch **was** human and therefore corruptible. So who might have corrupted him? Well, this is where it gets really interesting. Also a bit scary, to be quite honest. Enoch didn’t have any living brothers, but Metatron **does** have a brother – _Sandalphon._ ”

Raphael sucked in a breath. 

“Sandalphon’s not one of the original eight either,” Crowley observed.

“You said your side isn’t that smart but **someone** is. Sandalphon follows Gabriel around everywhere he goes and I’ve seen him making snide little comments and baiting him. That pornography incident was just one of a pattern I’ve observed for a very long time.”

“He’s been subtly manipulating him,” Crowley realized. 

“He’s **supposed** to be the Angel of Music but **I’ve** never seen him so much as sing,” Aziraphale said, “I don’t know who he is but I’d bet my books that _he’s_ your inside agent and that he and Metatron conspired to usurp the Voice and image of God and steer Heaven - and through them, humanity - towards alignment with Hell’s values.”

“Which would be why they were so chummy during the Apocalypse,” Crowley murmured, “They referred to the demon agent who brought them the infernal fire as ‘their new friend.’”

“And Michael seemed very much at ease in Hell,” Aziraphale agreed. His expression turned thoughtful, “Now that I think on it, she seemed rather puzzled when I referred to Hell as ‘the other side.’”

“Like a backdoor listing, at best,” Crowley nodded.

“If Sandalphon turned out to be behind the Fall of the Watchers, that would not surprise me either. Near as I’ve been able to tell, nobody knows when exactly he showed up. As you say, he’s not one of the original eight but nobody seems to know **when** he appeared among Heaven’s ranks. There was some speculation that he was the human prophet Elijah, but that appears to be back-speculating _after_ he’d established himself as Metatron’s brother.”

Raphael shook her head, “But… How could the Almighty not know this?”

“ **Is** She all-mighty?”

“You’re dangerously close to blasphemy, Principality Aziraphale.”

“According to whom?” Aziraphale countered, “You’re both much older than I am, perhaps you might remember - when did _God_ say that She’s all-mighty or all-knowing?” 

They both looked at each other then back at him. “Yeah, that’s what I said,” Crowley drawled, “But I’ve only heard it from the other Arches.”

“All of this has been on the assumption that God is all-knowing, but if She is,” Aziraphale took a breath, “Then why did She ask what I’d done with my sword?”

“To… to test you? See how you would answer?” Raphael sounded doubtful.

“Orrrrr… She didn’t know,” Crowley said, “Occam’s Razor.”

“That… would mean…” Raphael looked at Tawuse, “Everything we’ve been told is likely a lie.”

“That may well be,” Aziraphale agreed.

Crowley spread his hands, “Rafe, _you_ were the one who told me the thing about demons being unable to love was a lie.”

Raphael nodded thoughtfully, “Yes. That lie has been used to justify countless acts of cruelty by Heaven against the demons.”

Tawuse nodded, “Not to mention the number of demons who think they’re flawed because they still feel love.”

Aziraphale made a few mental notes. Then he took a breath and glanced at Crowley, “The question that never made sense to me was, Why was eating the fruit so catastrophically wrong? Heaven and Hell are both equally controlling, both demand unquestioning obedience, both have rigid caste systems where everyone must know their place and dare not stray — where do Knowledge and Enlightenment even fit in? If the Tree was _your_ gift, then surely it must have fit into God’s Plan _somewhere_. If God were truly as kind, just, and merciful as Heaven claims, then surely the knowledge of good and evil, enlightenment and self-determination would truly be seen as gifts. But the way things are now, there’s no room for it in Heaven **or** in Hell. If the orders have _not_ been coming from God, if the reasons are being distorted or outright lied about, then the question becomes-”

“Who’s doing the lying?” Crowley finished.

“Three thousand years,” Tawuse Melek whispered. They rose and their voice rose as well, shaking their hands, “Three _**thousand**_ years I’ve been working on this problem, trying to figure out what the **heck** was going on, and **this!** This _**brilliant** motherfucker_ only goes and figures it all out in six days. What a fucking genius.”

Crowley leaned back into a sprawl to beam proudly at his angel, “Yeahhhhhh, he is that.”

_**”FUCK!”**_ Tawuse flopped back down and wiped their hands down their face then looked at Raphael, “It makes sense. All of it.”

“If he’s right,” Raphael said slowly, “This is far worse than we thought. What do we do?”

Tawuse raked their hands through their hair and shook it out. “Let me stew on this a bit but I think the Principality is right. And if he is, I reckon I’ll need to talk to Mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Metatron as Enoch  
> This is a [well-established](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metatron) legend that sometimes goes into some [pretty interesting directions.](http://zeek.forward.com/articles/115651/)  
> Enoch would of course have been a Middle Eastern man with appropriate complexion, but in Good Omens, Metatron is played by Derek Jacobi, and I was struck by just how much he resembled the usual portrayals of God in art. And then the plotbunnies escaped.
> 
> Names of God and fluidity of God's gender  
> Despite modern Christianity's insistance that God is an old white man and Islam's similar insistance that God is male, God in Judaism was and is [quite a bit more complex](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Names_of_God_in_Judaism) than that.  
> The choice of Frances McDormand to be the narrating voice of God reflects the [Shekhinah](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shekhinah), the feminine principle of God. Later, Crowley refers to God as They ("But They're _drowning_ everyone else?!"), which reflects [the Elohim](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elohim), an aspect of God which is sometimes plural, sometimes neutral singular.
> 
> The false god  
> So, there's this little book called _Fifty Years in the Feri Tradition_ and it is whack, it really is. It's completely disorganized, confusing, cites no sources whatsoever because it was basically transcribing the conversation of a very clever and wise old woman and it contains these nuggets about the 'false god' that set my world on its ear and I flopped my head over going "That... makes sense." After noticing what I noticed about Good Omens' Metatron, I was reminded of this concept and [the escaped plotbunnies started breeding.](http://thegemara.com/enochs-walk-with-god-ends-badly-in-babylonia/)
> 
> The enemy of Sophia  
> This is from the same little book but definitely has its origins in the Gnostic legends of [Demiurge](https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Demiurge). The Demiurge legends appear to be similar to the 'false god' legend, though not quite the same. Sophia herself appears to have commonalities with the Shekhinah.
> 
> Sandalphon  
> You might notice that the resources on Metatron don't mention any relatives. Yet Sandalphon is [frequently considered](https://www.rabbidavidcooper.com/cooper-print-index/2010/11/8/2190-sandalphon-brother-of-meta-tron.html) to be [Metatron's brother.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sandalphon) Like Metatron, Sandalphon is also considered to have been a human (Elijah) but there's some disagreement over whether that was originally part of Sandalphon's mythos or whether it was backfilled later, so to speak. There's also disagreement on when and how he became associated with Metatron as Metatron's brother.
> 
> Omniscience of God  
> That’s not a new view either. In fact, there are quite a few times when God is recorded as not knowing things. My particular favourite is when God doesn’t know where Adam and Eve went and has to go hunting for them _in Eden!_ “Lost them already, have you?” XD 
> 
> What amazes me is some of this stuff I found _after_ I had plotted the concepts and started writing the fic!


	16. The Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AZIZ OF THE FIRST-BORN, PEACOCK ANGEL, FIRST FORGIVEN, HAST THOU COMPLETED THY RECKONING?
> 
> “Yeah, I reckon I have,” Tawuse drawled, “And I reckon You’ve got an even bigger problem than we thought. If Aziraphale here is right, and I think he is, then this has been **the** longest con job ever."

“I, um, I do still have a contact circle. I haven’t used it since I broke with Heaven,” Aziraphale said. He glanced briefly at Crowley. “It’s just, um, Crowley is quite insistent about the candles.”

Tawuse sighed and nodded, “No time like the present, I guess.” Aziraphale got up to pull the rug away from the circle and blinked when Tawuse took a small papier mache bush out of their pocket and set it in the centre of the circle.

Crowley stared at it then groaned, “You’ve **got** to be kidding me.”

Tawuse grinned wickedly, “Hey if you want it, you gotta ask for it.”

Crowley, “But it looks like it belongs on a model railway set!”

“It **is** from a model railway set!”

“Are you **seriously** using a paper bush from a model railway set to talk to God?”

“Would you rather they use your bonsai shrub?” Aziraphale asked mischeviously. Crowley snarled at him. 

Tawuse set out the LED candles with a little grin at Crowley, then turned serious. They sketched out a few more markings to Aziraphale’s circle, then sat _seiza_ on the floor and bowed their head. Beside and slightly behind them, Raphael and Aziraphale both dropped to one knee and also bowed their heads. Crowley remained standing, his arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses firmly in place, defiant.

Tawuse clapped their hands twice and bowed once. “Yo, Mama, it’s ya bitch!”

A slow grin spread over Crowley’s face. Aziraphale bit hard on his lips. Raphael started giggling and her hand fluttered to her forehead. Aziraphale put his face in his hands. 

In the centre of the circle, the papier mache bush began to smoulder, then burst into flames. The flames stretched into a column and Tawuse got to their feet. Raphael and Aziraphale stayed on their knees. Raphael kept her head bowed but Aziraphale tipped his face up. Crowley caught his eye and gave him a warm smile. 

AZIZ OF THE FIRST-BORN, PEACOCK ANGEL, FIRST FORGIVEN, HAST THOU COMPLETED THY RECKONING?

“Yeah, I reckon I have,” Tawuse drawled, “And I reckon You’ve got an even bigger problem than we thought. If Aziraphale here is right, and I think he is, then this has been **the** longest con job ever. Every order You give is being changed and nothing being reported to You is accurate. And worse, You’ve been usurped.”

EXPLAIN

Tawuse beckoned Aziraphale forward. He got to his feet and stared at the pillar of flame, remembering. Remembering Metatron denying him this audience. Holding that image in his mind, holding that despair in his heart, he began to speak.

I SEE

Aziraphale swallowed, his throat dry after the long explanation. He reached back and caught Crowley’s hand, where the demon had sidled closer. Crowley shuffled a little bit more until he was right behind Aziraphale’s shoulder.

AZIZ THE FORGIVEN, WHAT DOST THOU RECKON?

“I reckon Aziraphale’s perfect for it, I think it might actually respond to him but we won’t know for sure until we try. Do I have that permission?”

PROCEED

“As for Crowley…” they shook their head and said simply, “No.”

AND THY BRETHREN?

Tawuse winced and shook their head again, “Change of plans. This goes so deep, we’re going to have to do this completely differently.”

APPROACH

Tawuse walked forward and vanished into the column of flame.

Crowley exhaled sharply and looked at Raphael, “And what are you, chopped liver?”

Raphael smiled and got to her feet, “It feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it? That was never uncommon, though, even in the Beginning.”

“Did any of that make sense?”

“Very little,” Raphael nodded, “What I know, there is one of Lucifer’s accessories that Tawuse Melek was unable to acquire when they took over Lucifer’s purview. It’s been unresponsive. They think it might respond to Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale frowned, not liking that thought, “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Raphael said, “I don’t know what the artifact is.”

“I guess we’ll found out,” Crowley said uncertainly. He looked at Aziraphale, “I’m going with you, wherever they take you.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with one of _Lucifer’s_ artifacts responding to _me._ ”

Crowley couldn’t help a sly grin, “Oh really?”

“Don’t be silly,” Aziraphale smiled back, “ _You’re_ not an artifact!”

There was a sound of thunder and Tawuse Melek stepped out of the flame, folding their wings around them as they changed back to their human form. They turned to face the flame again, “Do I have Your permission?”

PROCEED

“Do I have Your blessing?”

YES

“Alright then. I’ll check in again later.” The flaming column guttered once then went out. Tawuse walked into the circle to pick up the unscorched papier mache bush and put it in their pocket. They looked around, “Bit of a change of plans. We’re going to smoke them out. But first, I need more information, and for that,” they looked at Aziraphale, “I need you.”

“Raphael says you’re after one of Lucifer’s artifacts,” Crowley said, “I’m not letting him go near one of those without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Black Snake,” Tawuse smiled, “What do you say? Fancy another trip?”

“I really can’t imagine what Lucifer could have had that would have to do with me,” Aziraphale said, “What is it?”

Tawuse smiled, “It’s a library.”

The look on Aziraphale’s face was something Crowley would keep forever.


	17. The Hall of Records

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “See if you can find Sandalphon’s,” Tawuse said.
> 
> Aziraphale’s face took on a slightly calculating look. “Of course,” he said and set off down the halls.
> 
> “It’s getting lighter in here,” Crowley observed. Tawuse nodded and unsheathed their sword. “Got something in mind?”
> 
> “Yeah. If he can find Sandalphon’s Book of Life, I want to be ready.”

It was a dark and ancient sight. A temple in the oldest style, stone pillars stretching up beyond what the eye could see. The stone doors were closed but swung open at a touch from the Seraph. Inside, the hall was dark. 

“The Akashic Records,” Aziraphale breathed. He stepped into the dark hall, gazing around with wonder and no small amount of excitement, “The Books of Life.”

Crowley followed, not half creeped out by the dark, dusty hall. “Why won’t it respond to you?” he asked the Seraph.

“I don’t know,” Tawuse replied, “It hasn’t responded to anyone since Lucifer locked it down and abandoned it. I’m not sure what it’s waiting for.”

“Ohhhh look at you,” Aziraphale breathed, wandering among the dark shelves. He reached up to touch the scrolls reverently with his gloved hands.

“That’s him lost,” Crowley chuckled.

“Ohhh… oh, yes, I see… Oh, and…! Oh that makes sense. No no no no no, you’re fine, shhhh it’s alright, you’re fine… not here to harm anything…” Crowley could hear Aziraphale but in the gloom, could not see what he was doing. “Shhhhhh, it’s alright, it’s alright… Yes, I see… So, where would I find…? Ahh yes, of course, yes… Ah, here it is! May I?” Aziraphale slid a clay tablet out of a shelf and blew the dust off of it, then tilted it towards what little light there was, trying to read it. He smiled, “Yes, yes, that’s lovely. May I show it to Crowley?” He carried the tablet back, smiling his 1000-watt smile, and offered it to Crowley.

Crowley took it and tilted it to show the carved writing. “This is yours?”

“Yes. This is nearer to the beginning of it, there’s a whole shelf, of course,” Aziraphale said, “It starts with tablets then goes up through scrolls and into bound books.”

“Hnh,” Crowley said. Aziraphale had chosen the tablet describing their first meeting, on the wall of Eden. Everything Aziraphale had thought and experienced was recorded here. He ran his fingers lightly over the text and found himself flooded with everything the angel had felt during that first encounter. His panic. His fear, uncertainty, and doubt. His private agreement. His relief. The first time he had laughed. He glanced up over the tops of his glasses to see Aziraphale smiling tenderly. He passed the tablet back and asked, “Is there one for me?”

Aziraphale’s smile brightened even more, “Oh I’m certain there must be! Let me think, if it follows that pattern, then it should be… Over this way!”

“Oi, Angel! Don’t get lost!”

“Right!” Aziraphale patted around his pockets and made a moue, “Don’t seem to have any string on me today.”

Tawuse Melek unhooked their data cable lariat from their armour and passed it to him, “Use this?”

“Ah! Thank you!” Aziraphale gave one end of the lariat to Crowley. “Stay here, please. I’ll be right back!” he said, and walked off briskly down the shelves, letting the data cable play out behind him. 

He disappeared into the darkness. Crowley felt the slight movements of the cable as Aziraphale continued to walk and play it out, and his insides twisted with anxiety. After what felt like a long time, the cable’s twitching became stronger. Aziraphale appeared soon after, winding up the cable awkwardly with one hand, the other clutching a tablet. He beamed proudly and offered it to Crowley. Crowley jerked his chin towards it, “You let me read yours.”

“Oh, thank you!” Aziraphale beamed. He handed the cable back to Tawuse and tilted the tablet to catch the light, running his gloved fingers lightly over its surface, feeling that first flush of friendship and the way the demon’s heart had caught in his throat when Aziraphale laughed. And then he sucked a sharp breath, taken by surprise by the power of the demon’s feelings, when Aziraphale had extended his wing to shelter him from the first rain. 

It had seemed such a little thing for him to do. He’d feared that the rain might harm the demon. That was all. He hadn’t really thought about the effect it might have on Crowley.

He tore his eyes away from the text and back to his suddenly-shy demon. “Thank you,” he whispered and leaned over to kiss Crowley’s cheek tenderly. Crowley looked away then looked back and his nose brushed Aziraphale’s. “I’ll put this back, now.” He looked up at Tawuse, “If I may borrow your lariat again? Thank you. What was it you were looking for?”

“See if you can find Sandalphon’s,” Tawuse replied.

Aziraphale’s face took on a slightly calculating look. “Of course,” he said and set off down the halls.

“It’s getting lighter in here,” Crowley observed. Tawuse nodded and unsheathed their sword. “Got something in mind?”

“Yeah. If he can find Sandalphon’s Book of Life, I want to be ready.”

It seemed to take a long, long, long time. Only the twitching of the data cable kept Crowley from racing off in a panic after his angel. Finally, from a very long way off, he barely made out Aziraphale’s voice calling “Found it!”

“Come back quickly!” Tawuse called. They looked at Crowley and muttered, “The clock’s ticking, now. If he figures this out…”

Crowley looked up at them, “Who?”

“Lucy.”

The lariat was jerking wildly and Aziraphale’s footsteps echoed on the tiled floor - the angel was running back. He skidded to a halt near them, nearly slipping on the tiles. “It’s cross-referenced with another Book,” he panted. He opened the scroll. 

Tawuse sucked in a breath and let it out in a hiss. “Blast! That’s exactly what I was afraid of.” They handed the sword to Aziraphale, “Principality, you need to do this fast.”

“What… what do I do?”

“You saw what I did before. Do it the same way. You’re one of mine now, so you’ll be claiming it in my name.”

“If you shout ‘for the honour of Greyskull’ or anything remotely similar, I am not buying you lunch for the next two years,” Crowley said. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aziraphale said primly. He hefted the sword. It was at least twice as long as his own sword had been but it flamed in much the same way. He felt the peacock feather tattoo on his cheek tingling and he let his wings unfurl. Then he raised the sword, turned it tip down, and slammed it into the floor of the library. 

The flames spread out, racing up the walls to ignite the sconces and the library blazed with light. Aziraphale set his hand on top of his other hand on the pommel of the sword and spread his iridescent wings. A halo spread around him like a peacock’s tail.

The Seraph smiled. “Right,” they said, “Tie the lariat onto the sword and hold onto both. If I give it a hard tug, _don’t let go._ ” They vanished downward through the floor, the lariat playing out into… somewhere else.

“Oh!” Crowley said abruptly, “I think I get it.”

“What’s going to happen?”

He looked at Aziraphale, “Remember all those big server banks?”

The lariat jerked and the whole library _shifted._ The Seraph sang as the two realms merged, knitting them together. Aziraphale’s halo flared and a second pulse of light raced along the library, settling into an eery peacock blue glow. “Nice!” Tawuse said at last.

Crowley looked around, grudgingly impressed, “Did we just _steal_ the **Akashic Library**?”

“Right out from under Lucy’s nose,” Tawuse purred, “Well done.” They looked at Aziraphale, “I needed you to claim it quickly but it’s up to you whether you want to keep the responsibility for it. Himself suggested you for the job but I’m a big believer in choice.”

“I see,” Aziraphale said. If God Herself nominated him then… “I think… I’d like to talk to Crowley about it first.”

“Always,” Tawuse smiled.

* * * * 

“Alright, Angel? What have you got?” They were back in the bookshop. The painting of dusk was fading from the walls as night settled in. “You said that Sandalphon’s Book cross-referenced with someone else’s?”

Aziraphale sipped his cocoa and arranged his feet so they were touching Crowley’s. Then he told him.

Crowley looked puzzled, “But that’s…”

“That’s what I was thinking. Then I looked for Lucifer’s Book of Life. That’s partly what took me so long.”

Crowley nodded, “And?”

Aziraphale took another long swallow of cocoa and nerved himself. “There isn’t one.” Crowley took his glasses off and stared at him. “What there is, is an annotated sheet of cross-references. I followed a few of them.” He took another deep breath. “Crowley, you told me that Lucifer collected names. And you said you had thought that Aziz and Azazel were the same person, but they’re not.”

Crowley nodded, “Yeah?”

“It’s looking like ‘Lucifer’ was a name shared by a number of entities.”

“So… ‘Lucifer’ could be safely in Hell…”

Aziraphale nodded slowly, “And out infiltrating Heaven.”

“Classic bait and switch,” Crowley sighed.

Aziraphale sipped again. “Tawuse said that the plan now is to ‘smoke them out.’”

“Yeah,” Crowley sighed, “I’d feel better about this if I didn’t have the feeling we’ve been picked up by Glinda the Good Witch of the North.”

Aziraphale nodded but asked, “What do you mean?”

“In the movie, Glinda pretty much set Dorothy up to eliminate every other position of power in Oz.”

Aziraphale nodded again, reassured that, once again as so often, they were on the same page. “And I’ve just been handed the ruby slippers.”

Crowley stared at him, realizing, “We’re _bait_ , Angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akashic Records  
> Believe it or not, this is actually a [relatively recent concept,](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akashic_records) in the form with which most people are familiar. The concept itself is not new, though.
> 
> Names of Satan  
> The name "Satan" comes from "sâtan", meaning 'accuser' or 'adversary' in early Hebrew. As I understand it, the function of the sâtan in early Judaism was akin to that of a prosecuting attourney, which leads to a lot of lawyer jokes. While "Lucifer" is the name most associated with [Satan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Satan), there are [a lot more.](https://www.history.com/topics/folklore/history-of-the-devil) Azazel, Samiel, and Iblis are among the angelic names for Satan. Aziz, as noted earlier, is the Yezidi angelic name. Of particular interest is that Beelzebub is noted as a name for Satan. So is Dagon. But in GO, Beelzebub and Dagon are distinct people, which led me to contemplation. 
> 
> [By the power of Greyskull](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8h8snfYidg) / [For the honour of Greyskull](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o-VrAFQ5S2E)  
> [I went there](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32FB-gYr49Y) so you don't have to.


	18. Bebop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Listen, Buck Owens,” Taz hissed, “I spent five thousand eighty years working as a document clerk in Hell’s fucked-up filing department under **Dagon.** I am a giant, hairy, ugly **spider**. I-“ he punctuated his words by jabbing Crowley’s chest with his finger, “Wanted. Cute.”
> 
> Despite his best efforts, Crowley’s grin escaped, “’ _Buck Owens_ ’?”

“Hey, Angel?” Crowley waited until a certain shift in Aziraphale’s shoulders told him the angel’s attention had turned outward again, “Who were you talking to yesterday, in the Library?”

Aziraphale looked around from the book he was scanning, peering at him over the tops of his glasses, “Hm? Oh! The Library.”

Crowley blinked in confusion, “Yeah, who were you talking to there?”

“The Library itself,” Aziraphale said patiently, “It was talking to me.”

“It _what?_ ”

“Well, not in so many words… Not in words at all, actually. But, well,” he turned around to face Crowley fully, “You remember how it was, reading the Akashic tablets? Not only words but feelings, visions, sensations, impressions? The Library was talking to me like that.”

“Huh!” Crowley sat back in the couch, impressed. He frowned thoughtfully, “Makes me wonder what Tawuse Melek originally commissioned you _for._ ”

Aziraphale nodded but shrugged, “I really don’t know. But it was God Herself who gave me the sword and told me to go guard the Eastern gate, so I presume it wasn’t a mistake.”

Crowley scratched his chin with the backs of his fingers, “And didn’t tell Tawuse Melek.”

“Apparently not,” Aziraphale nodded. 

“Wonder why it talked to you when it was Lucifer’s library?”

Aziraphale shrugged again, but he’d been wondering the same thing. “Perhaps it recognised a librarian.”

“Hmm,” Crowley said, disgruntled.

Aziraphale decided to change the subject, “So where does one acquire one of those wireless telephones?”

Crowley blinked, “You want one?”

Aziraphale’s face did that little twitch it did whenever he was forced to change something. “I’ve been thinking about it. Well… Tawuse Melek was hinting about it pretty strongly.”

“Yeah they were, weren’t they.”

“And I **do** see the advantages. I’m just not entirely certain I trust them.”

“Yeahhhhh no, don’t trust them. And don’t set yourself loose in the app store without talking to me first, please, Angel?”

“I would never,” Aziraphale said primly.

Crowley snorted. “Yes you would, and you’d brick your phone as a result after clogging it up with malware and transmitting half your information to somewhere in China. **No Huaweis.** ”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Crowley snorted and laughed, “That’s the literal truth.” He leaned back to look at Aziraphale again, “You want to go ‘round the shops then? Find something you like?”

“If it wouldn’t trouble you?”

“Of course not, Angel,” Crowley smiled. He got up and extended a hand to help Aziraphale up and together they went out to the Bentley. 

* * * *

After a few hours of window shopping and casual browsing, Aziraphale had a phone he was mostly satisfied with. Crowley had done most of the talking, he being the more technologically savvy of the pair and knowing what Aziraphale was likely to want. Aziraphale took a glacial approach to change, often adapting only when it was forced upon him. His computer was one of the few times that Aziraphale had jumped onto the bleeding edge and Crowley had never quite figured out what prompted him to do that. This change was of the former category, having been just shy of mandated by their new boss, but Aziraphale was taking it much more amicably than he had when he’d first been forced to install a landline phone for the bookshop (one of the candlestick models - the angel really had held out for as long as he could.)

They walked back down the street, Crowley deftly steering the angel by the elbow as Aziraphale got familiar with his new phone. The first order of business, of course, had been installing an e-reader app and pointing it to the bookshop servers. Now he was delightedly exploring the books they’d already scanned while Crowley listened and kept him from walking into traffic.

Movement caught Crowley’s eyes and he looked up to see a group of three people walking towards them. One of them was waving. “Raz, Taz, hi!” Crowley smiled. 

Aziraphale looked up, “Oh! Hello again!”

“Hey, brothers!” Taz greeted them.

Raz stepped back to introduce their third, a Desi woman, dressed in a black and peacock blue anarkali churidar suit with copper embroidery, with a matching dupatta flowing over her left shoulder. “Penny, you remember Crowley?”

“Hi, Pen, it’s been a while,” Crowley said.

The demon Penny stepped up and stared at him with dark mammalian eyes that showed just a bit too little sclera to be human. Crowley remembered Taz mentioning that Penny became an opossum. Those eyes were filling with tears and her breath was becoming rough and hiccupping as she fought to keep from sobbing. Wordless, he reached to embrace her, and felt Aziraphale’s hand on his shoulder, keeping him grounded in the present. 

She thumped his chest with her fist. “You have a terrible reputation!” she cried in a Punjabi accent as thick as Aziraphale’s Received Pronunciation. 

Crowley grinned, “If it helps, I only earned half of it.”

“It does not help!” she thumped him again then stood back, “Alright, it helps a little bit.”

“Atta grrl,” Crowley chuckled, “Has Taz told you about Aziraphale?”

“Yes,” Penny said, wiping her eyes. She stepped forward to kiss his cheeks formally, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Aziraphale said politely.

“So what mischief are you lot getting into?” Raz asked, as they started walking again.

“Taking him ‘round the mobile phone shops,” Crowley said easily, “What about you?”

“Well, Penny just got in from India so we thought we’d go pick up our instruments and find a place to jam.”

“’Jam?’” Aziraphale glanced at Crowley.

“Yeah it’s like live music improv.”

“Chamber music?”

Crowley winced, “Not exactly.” He looked back at Raz, “So you guys are, what, in a band?”

“Yeah!” Raz nodded, “We call ourselves ‘Illuminator.’ We do all the vocals ‘cause the demons can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

Taz laughed, “Well, Penny can but her bucket is rusty and full of holes.”

“You shush!” Penny grinned.

“She plays wicked violin though,” Raz smiled.

“You guys want to join us later?” Taz offered.

Crowley immediately felt torn in two directions. On the one hand, he’d planned to suggest dinner at the Ritz to Aziraphale later. “Um, well, I sort of had plans already and…” Crowley stopped dead in his tracks, “What is _that?_ ”

Taz followed Crowley’s gaze and frowned, puzzled. He looked back at him, “My car?”

“It’s a _Mini._ ”

Taz looked at it and nodded, “So it is.”

“It’s good to see your powers of observation haven’t diminished, Crowley,” Raz added.

Penny smirked, “I’ve been riding in it for years yet I hadn’t actually noticed it was a Mini until you pointed it out.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, the impact mostly lost because of his sunglasses, “You’re a **demon**! I drive a 1926 custom-built Bentley and you’re driving a _Mini?_ ”

“Do you mock my Mini, sir?” Taz said mildly. Aziraphale bit his lips, trying not to grin.

Crowley curled his lip, “I do mock your Mini. It’s a silly car.”

“Do you quarrel, sir?”

“Don’t you try to out-Shakespeare **me** , I was there! _Hamlet_ was a complete **flop** until I got there!” Aziraphale coughed and Crowley bit his lip, “Yeah, alright, it was a favour to him so I could get out of a crap trip to Edinburgh but the point is, You’re a demon, you could have any car you wanted, why **that** car?”

By now they were nose to nose, sunglasses to sunglasses, snarl to snarl. Since Taz had chelicerae instead of teeth, his snarl was particularly disturbing. It looked like a very serious throw-down was about to happen. Aziraphale miracled a small bag of popcorn for himself and offered some to Raziel. “It’s. Cute,” Taz growled.

“’Cute,’” Crowley repeated, “You chose a car because it’s **cute.** ”

“Yes.”

“Over performance and durability and everything else, you went with **cute.** ”

“Listen, Buck Owens,” Taz hissed, “I spent five thousand eighty years working as a document clerk in Hell’s fucked-up filing department under **Dagon.** I am a giant, hairy, ugly **spider**. I-“ he punctuated his words by jabbing Crowley’s chest with his finger, “Wanted. Cute.”

Despite his best efforts, Crowley’s grin escaped, “’ _Buck Owens_ ’?” Then they both broke and started giggling. “Yeah, okay, I got nothing. There’s nothing I can say to that,” Crowley said. 

Taz wiped his eyes, “Seriously, are you dragging my car?!”

“I was just teasing you, I wouldn’t actually drag your car,” Crowley said, “Not without a tow truck.”

“Oi!”

They laughed again and Crowley clapped Taz’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’s a lovely car. Not a patch on my Bentley, of course.”

“Is your Bentley **cute?** ”

“My Bentley is a thing of beauty and grace and **hang on a minute!** ” Crowley had glimpsed Aziraphale shaking his head, out of the corner of his eye and rounded on him, aghast. 

“But it’s not _cute,_ ” Aziraphale finished, smiling innocently. Crowley looked betrayed.

Taz pointed at Aziraphale, looking at Raz and Penny, “I like him!”

Penny smirked. “Yeah, ditch this loser and come with us, our car has disco lights!” she told Aziraphale.

“Hmm… Does yours do the speed limit?”

“What?!” Crowley gasped.

“Ummmmm…” Penny glanced at Taz. Raz chewed his lip. Taz failed at looking innocent. “Actually, he tends to drag race,” she admitted.

“Mmm… I think I’ll stick with speed demon I’ve got. The devil you know, and all that,” Aziraphale smiled fondly at Crowley. The others laughed.

“What’s your number? I’ll text you when we’ve found a place to jam, you can come join us if you want?” Raziel offered.

“That sounds lovely, thank you!” Aziraphale said. He took out his phone and tried not to be confused by it. 

“New phone, yeah, always takes some getting used to,” Raz nodded.

“Angels are so slow to change,” Penny mock-huffed, “He only got a phone five years ago!”

“About an hour ago, me,” Aziraphale admitted. Raz took the phone and sent himself a text, then texted Aziraphale’s phone and showed him how to add it to the contacts list. Aziraphale looked up and glimpsed a large spider slipping into the open window of the Bentley and quickly looked back at Penny who was adding herself to his contacts. “Thank you! This is lovely.”

“I’ll text you when we find a place,” Raz promised. 

Aziraphale waved as he and Crowley turned to cross the street and walk back towards the Bentley. “Not cute,” Crowley grumbled, “How can you say it’s not cute?”

“It isn’t cute,” Aziraphale opened the passenger door and gave a quick, surreptitious once-over before getting in, “It’s lovely and classic but definitely not cute.”

“You’re saying that a **Mini** is better than my Bentley?” Crowley slammed himself into the driver’s seat, flipped down the sunshade and shrieked like a little girl as a large hairy spider flopped out into his lap. He screeched again as Taz ran up his chest, jumped out the window, changed and ran laughing down the street. “ _Taz you motherfucker!_ ”

“That’s for dissing my car, jackass!” Taz laughed back.

Crowley slammed his head down onto the steering wheel, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “I sounded like Hastur, didn’t I.”

“Yes, my dear, you did,” said Aziraphale, who didn’t know what Crowley meant, exactly, but wasn’t missing an opportunity, “You started it.”

“Yeah I did, I deserved it,” Crowley sat back and looked at Aziraphale then both of them burst into laughter.

* * * *

“You’re certain about this?” Crowley said as they approached the club, “It’s bebop. You don’t usually go in for bebop.” 

It was a jazz club in Dalston, the only one holding an open jam this evening, but Aziraphale considered everything from the 1920s onwards to be ‘bebop.’ He even classed The Velvet Underground as bebop, although Crowley was starting to suspect by now that Aziraphale was trolling him. The club’s atmosphere was as far away from the Ritz as it was possible to get, short of McDonald’s. It was brightly lit with coloured LEDs, loud, and the menu was more pub fare than the delicacies of Aziraphale’s preference.

“They’re your friends,” Aziraphale smiled, “And my dear, I can tell you’re interested in catching up with them. That’s more than worth putting up with a few hours of bebop music.”

“If you’re sure… It’s loud and the food’s not going to be-”

“ _Crowley_ ,” Aziraphale chided him gently, “Are **you** certain about this?”

“Well, yeah,” Crowley glanced at the club then back at Aziraphale, “I mean… I like jazz.”

Aziraphale took his arm firmly, “Then let’s go,” and steered him in before he could say another word. He placed orders for wine and nibbles and a plate of chicken wings that Crowley could swallow discreetly. 

They found Raz upstairs in the club proper staking out a few tables. He was carrying a large fast-food cup and was casually placing bits of food into it. When he saw Aziraphale and Crowley, he put the cup down and went to kiss their cheeks, “Hi guys! Glad you could make it!” 

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Aziraphale smiled back.

“What’s the cup for?” Crowley asked, as they found their seats.

“Taz,” Raz said, “I mean, technically he doesn’t need to eat but he feels kind of left out when the rest of us dine together but the poor guy…”

Crowley nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, it gets awkward in public.”

“That’s why we picked a darker corner,” Raz nodded.

“Professor Honeycakes! Did you come to see us play?”

Aziraphale looked up to see Muriel and Nuriel approaching with a third angel, and rose to kiss their cheeks, “Hello, you two! Yes, of course, how could I not?”

“We sing backup but Nuriel sometimes sings lead. This is Arariel, he plays sax and violins.”

“Do you have to keep saying it like that?” Arariel shook his head good-naturedly and offered his hand to shake, “Just Ari, please.”

“Aziraphale, Principality.”

“You are responsible for these two having a sweet tooth,” Ari chuckled. He turned to Crowley, “And you…! Are responsible for that **nightmare** called the M25!”

Crowley beamed, “I got a commendation for that.”

“You bastard!”

“Good to see you too, Ari.”

“And I’m told you’ve joined our crew, eh? Congratulations, both of you.” He looked back at the stage, “Looks like they’re getting ready to start. We’ll chat more later, enjoy the show!”

“He was an angel of water, I believe,” Aziraphale commented, taking a sip of his wine.

“Yeah, and he took over the curing-stupidity thing when Penny was cast down,” Crowley nodded, “Wonder when he went walkies?”

“They cast out one curer of stupidity and the other one left,” Aziraphale pondered, “That’s not a coincidence.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

The band started up. Crowley was right about the cacaphony of ‘bebop’ jamming but Aziraphale found himself enjoying it nonetheless. Occasionally the players agreed on a song to play but even the jamming itself had a rhythm within its mayhem. Penny’s violin sang with the sweetness that her demonic voice lacked, but even its rough grating edge found a home in scat singing. People were asking Ari if he was the ‘Epic Sax Guy.’ Raz had Phil Collins’ knack for drumming and vocals. And to Crowley’s delight, Taz could shred on a guitar.

Aziraphale watched it all. Demons and angels making music together, supporting each other. Raziel, hiding food in a cup for Taz to bite into, inject with his venom and wait for it to dissolve so he could drink it. Shielding Crowley from view as he swallowed chicken wings whole. Demons and angels teasing each other. Old friends reconnecting. Warm welcomes. Kisses on cheeks. 

_”You are being rewarded.”_

His hand found Crowley’s and he looked over at him. His demon was leaning back, eyes closed behind his sunglasses, a soft smile on his face, fingers of his free hand tapping, immersed fully in the music. Aziraphale poured himself another glass of wine and settled in to watch Crowley being happy.


	19. Literally, Nothing Works Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley forcefully shut down the part of his mind that wanted to scream and just went to peer over Aziraphale’s shoulder at the e-reader where, having not been told otherwise, it was working. Aziraphale flicked open a book and smiled to see a complete table of contents spanning the whole of the _Book of Life of the Angel Aziraphale_. He touched the links and smiled to have the appropriate chapters open up on the screen. “There!” he said in delight, “That’s much better!” Crowley just stared at him.

It was nearly dawn. Aziraphale lay in bed, cosy under the thick tartan quilt in his tartan flannel pyjamas, listening to Crowley doze beside him. The demon’s breathing was so peaceful and even - everything Aziraphale wasn’t feeling just now. There were times when he envied Crowley. Crowley adapted quickly to nearly everything, surfing on the waves of change easily and naturally. He wondered how Crowley was adapting to **these** changes. 

“Alright, Angel?”

He looked around at the soft whisper to see Crowley awake and blinking at him with concern in his beautiful golden eyes. They were fully gold, not even restricted to irises. A slightly hissing quality to his voice made Aziraphale suspect that he wasn’t keeping his tongue together either. Crowley, feeling fully relaxed and safe - a sight that Aziraphale treasured. “Just a bit maudlin, I suppose, my dearest,” he sighed. He looked at Crowley’s inviting warmth and silky pyjamas and wished… and then remembered he could. “May I…?”

Crowley skootched down a bit to make more room, “’Course, Angel.” He drew Aziraphale onto his chest and wrapped him securely in his arms. “How’re you holding up?” he whispered.

Aziraphale pressed his face into Crowley’s side and breathed him in. So many times he’d wished that he could turn into a snake and be held in warm, loving arms and be clingy and needy for a little while. “It’s… difficult,” he sighed, “I’m sure you understand that.”

“Oh yeah.”

“If everything we’ve been told is a lie… and it starts with that one basic thing, God’s omniscience… that’s a large chunk of foundation just swept away.”

Crowley nodded, reaching up to stroke his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. “I’m finding that easier to deal with. Alright, so They’re **not** omniscient, They **didn’t** know that three quarters of this mess was going down - I find I can work with that. That puts the responsibility on me, which I’ve… pretty much been doing for thousands of years anyways.” He sighed and kissed Aziraphale’s head.

Aziraphale nodded silently. “If I’m right,” he whispered, “That means that everything you suffered was for no reason at all.”

Crowley sighed heavily, “That’s the part I’m having a problem with.” He kissed Aziraphale’s head again and rested his cheek on his hair, “But I don’t think you’re wrong. It makes too much sense.”

“I’m sorry, my dearest. This is just hurting you even more.”

“Don’t be, Angel,” Crowley nuzzled his hair, “You’re doing what you were meant to do, find out the truth of it. If the truth is that God doesn’t know everything and I went to Hell for nothing, then that’s the truth we have to live with.”

“And truth is not the same as belief,” Aziraphale sighed.

“No,” Crowley sighed as well, “I mean… People didn’t believe in platypuses for years, didn’t stop them from existing.”

Aziraphale frowned, “You’re right, there. Good point.”

“…is it platypuses? Platypi?”

Aziraphale giggled, “Go back to sleep, you silly serpent.”

* * * *

The clock ticked into the quiet. They were sipping tea in the back room and Aziraphale was contemplating his new phone. He looked up, “I must say you’re a good deal more polite than Gabriel and Sandalphon.” He was starting to recognize the subtle changes that signalled the arrival of the Peacock Angel.

Tawuse Melek smiled, “I’m getting the feeling that’s not that hard to do.”

“It really isn’t,” Crowley snickered. 

Aziraphale put his teacup down, “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to borrow you for a bit.”

Crowley arched an eyebrow, “Let me guess, a trip to the Library?”

“Got it in one,” they grinned. 

The Library looked a good deal healthier than when Aziraphale first saw it. It was brighter, the stone pillars in better repair, and the interior was now kindly lit. “Ah, you’re looking rather better,” he told it.

Crowley looked around, “I like what you’ve done with the place. Much brighter, easier to see.”

“Yeah I think it likes him,” Tawuse grinned.

Aziraphale turned to Tawuse, “What was it you wished to find?”

“I’m actually more interested in what **you** found,” they said.

“ _Ah_ ,” Aziraphale nodded. Tawuse handed him their data cable lariat and he strode purposefully down the shelves, playing it out behind him. A little while later, he returned with the scroll. “Here.”

“What is it?”

“This is all there is for Lucifer.”

They frowned, “What, just one scroll? That’s it? That can’t be right.”

“I’m sure it used to be a tablet,” Aziraphale nodded, “Every other Book of Life changes formats with the ages but this one stops here, at a scroll.”

Tawuse opened the scroll and read down. They shook their head, “It’s just a list of names?”

“Cross-references,” Aziraphale explained.

“These are all the names Lucifer has used?”

Aziraphale bit his lips, “I believe it’s all the names who have used the name Lucifer.”

Tawuse sucked in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. For just an instant, their eyes flared red. “I suspected something like this but not like _this_ , not on this scale.”

Aziraphale nodded, “This would be why he locked you out of the Library. I checked the other record, that’s part of what took me so long finding Sandalphon’s. You couldn’t access this place because it was deliberately and specifically warded against you.”

Tawuse narrowed their eyes at him but nodded, “And this would be why Himself suggested _you._ ” They tapped the scroll, “This is quite a long list. You got anything else to do today?”

“No,” Aziraphale said. He looked at the first couple of names on the list. “I shall make a start, then.” And he set off to collect the first set of relevant tablets and scrolls. He brought them back and spread them out for Tawuse to peruse.

He toyed with his phone while he and Crowley waited. He looked around, intrigued with how the Library temple had been integrated into the hell realm housing the bookstore’s massive server farm. One of the server racks was not too far away and he noticed something on it. Then he looked at the lariat he still carried. And looked at the server rack. And looked at the hole in the Library’s tile floor, made by the sword of Truth.

Crowley got that peculiar look on his face. “…What are you thinking about, Angel?”

“Just wondering if there’s a way to speed things up,” Aziraphale said and started walking towards the server rack. He looked at the connector of the data cable and the receptacle on the server rack. They fit together perfectly. Then he went back to the hole in the Library floor.

Crowley opened his mouth to tell him that data transfer doesn’t work like that but he shut up just in time and bit his lip. Because the server racks started to hum. “Um…”

Aziraphale took out his new phone and thumbed it open, then tapped his reader app. He looked up and smiled, “It seems to be working.”

_That’s not how it works! That’s not how any of this works!_ Crowley forcefully shut down the part of his mind that wanted to scream and just went to peer over Aziraphale’s shoulder at the e-reader where, having not been told otherwise, it was working. Aziraphale flicked open a book and smiled to see a complete table of contents spanning the whole of the _Book of Life of the Angel Aziraphale_. He touched the links and smiled to have the appropriate chapters open up on the screen. “There!” he said in delight, “That’s much better!” Crowley just stared at him.

Aziraphale didn’t notice. Instead he checked the scroll for the next name on the list, “Let’s see…” He flicked through the records on listed on his phone and frowned a little, “Hmm… Might have to change the ordering arrangement, it’s not really suited to… Ah there we are… “

“Hm?” Tawuse looked up and frowned when they saw what he was showing them. They took the phone and stared at it, “Hang on, when did this happen? How did you…?”

“Just now. I used your data cable,” Aziraphale explained, “I’m not sure whether it will continue to work without it but I suppose we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“I can always forge another one,” Tawuse said, staring at it then at the phone, “You did this just now?”

“Is that not what you were thinking with the endless miles of servers?” Crowley smirked.

“Not _exactly_ like this but I’ll roll with it,” Tawuse shrugged.

Aziraphale spread his hands, “I just thought it might be faster.”

“Yeah no, this is great,” Tawuse said. After several minutes, they handed the phone back to Aziraphale, “Next? It’s definitely got your numbering system, I can barely make sense of it.”

“Let me try something…” Aziraphale tapped the phone a few times and waited. “I think I can open… Yes, there we are. I opened the next five. You should be able to flip between them. I’m not sure if I can screen out the emotion and ethereal tracks if you want only audio, visual or text.”

“He doesn’t take to change very often but he’s a quick learner once he does,” Crowley said proudly. Aziraphale smiled his 500 watt smile at him.

More and more books, chasing more and more of the cross-references. “This is bad,” Tawuse said eventually, “I see what you mean. No wonder it’s slipped past me for so long, it’s like trying to see the shape of the forest from within.”

“And I think I might have isolated _when,_ ” Aziraphale said. He flipped to a different book, “I found this while searching for information on the Watchers.”

Tawuse looked at it and sucked in their breath sharply, “He was supposed to have been…” Frantically they flipped back to another book, “ **How** did he…?” Another sharp breath, “Oh. Ohhhhhh dear.”

“I’m sorry.”

Crowley frowned, “What? What is it?”

Aziraphale told him. 

* * * *

_It was a temple in the oldest style, stone pillars stretching up beyond what the eye could see. It had stood since the beginning of all things. It had stood dark and silent for centuries._

_Now, it was gone._

_There was nothing but sand, stretching out beyond what the eye could see. No trace of the temple of knowledge that had stood since the dawn of time. Only sand._

_And a single peacock tail feather._

_“Oh…………… **SHIT.** ”_


	20. Buck Up, Hamlet!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re being chased by Archangels on illegal e-scooters, there is everything wrong with that.”

_The mace swung down and Penemue screamed._

_Lucifer was right._

_The Kerubim reached for him, too mangled and bloody to resist. They pulped him some more for good measure, then flung him_

_And he Fell_

_And something met his back, warm and steady_

“I’ve got you.”

_Fell into… against something soft and - wait_

“You’re alright. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

_Caught, held by… what? Wait… He looked up, to see the Angel smiling tenderly, gathering him close under his wing_

“You’re safe with me. I’ve got you.”

Crowley gasped awake but the warm, solid sensation on his back didn’t disappear.

“I’ve got you,” Aziraphale whispered again and his arm tightened gently around Crowley’s waist. 

He was spooned around Crowley. Crowley swallowed thickly, “…Angel?” Keeping him secure, grounding him.

“Right here, my dear,” Aziraphale snugged him again, “Your sleep seemed a bit disturbed. I thought this might help.”

Crowley swallowed again, “Yeah. Yeah.” He found Aziraphale’s hand on his belly and linked their fingers. Lightning speared the sky again with a sharp crack of thunder that rattled the windows of the old bookshop flat and Crowley shuddered. He always tended to get nightmares during violent storms. And panic attacks. He swallowed and turned his head to glance back over his shoulder, “Read to me, Angel?”

Aziraphale snorted with amusement, “I’m not sure you want to hear what I’ve been reading. It’s terribly florid.”

“Why, what is it?”

“It’s my own Book of Life. I don’t know who actually writes the captions for these but their word choices in leave a great deal to be desired.”

“Well now you’ve got me curious.”

“Oh no, you’ll be appalled! I can’t possibly subject you to this, you’ll hate me for it.”

“Never, Angel,” Crowley promised. He turned around to curl up against Aziraphale’s side and skootched down so he could lay his head on the angel’s chest. 

“I figured out how to turn off everything but the text,” Aziraphale said, picking up his phone again, “That does take some of the sting out of it. It’s so much worse with the emotion track activated.”

“Now I really need to hear this.”

“This is from when we first met,” Aziraphale said, and recited, “ _"'The serpent of Eden did appear at his side and assumed the form of a wondrous angel. Black were his wings and pale his skin. Autumn were the hair that fell in coils and his shoulders were shapely. A serpent’s eye of gold was in his head. A black brow arched upon his forehead. His arms were slender and an easy smile graced his lips. Beautiful to look at was the demon.'"_

Crowley was almost crying laughing, "oh my s.. Are they all that purple or is it just yours?" 

"I'm scared to look," Aziraphale grinned, "This is embarrassing! It’s terrible literature." 

"It might be alright for Victorian," Crowley wheezed, “Go ahead, what does mine say?”

Aziraphale obediently scrolled through and found the relevant text. Then he frowned. “ _’He was white. White hair, white skin, white wings, white raiment.’_ " Crowley snorted into laughter again. “Apparently I didn’t impress you as much as you impressed me,” Aziraphale grumbled.

“What? **No!** Are you kidding me? I thought you were gorgeous WHY DOES IT SAY THAT?” Aziraphale burst into laughter himself. "Who writes these things??" 

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "I'm starting to question the accuracy of these records.” Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder, shaking with silent laughter. “What?”

“You look like Kermit the Frog,” Crowley gasped. 

Aziraphale gave him an even more exaggerated Kermit look and Crowley laughed even harder. Then Aziraphale grinned. “I do love hearing you laugh,” he said, reaching up to stroke Crowley’s hair, “It’s nice.”

“Oi! What’ve I said about the N-word!”

“That it’s a four-letter word,” Aziraphale sighed. Then his grin got mischievous, “Does that mean it’s naughty pillow talk, to demons?”

“What? **No!** ” Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s side and laughed, mortified.

“But you’re so _kind_ and _nice_ ,” Aziraphale cooed, “And _cute._ ”

“…’Mm n’t _cute_ …” Crowley giggled.

“So very cute. And sweet. …although that’s not a four-letter word, I’m sure it counts as in the same vicinity.”

“Stoppit!” Crowley gasped against Aziraphale’s ribs.

“Wily,” Aziraphale purred. Crowley looked up. His cheeks were wet with tears and full with laughter, his golden eyes unguarded, his hair mussed, his brow uncreased and his smile was full of love and joy. “Beautiful to look at indeed is my wily serpent,” Aziraphale murmured, and kissed him. 

* * * *

The rain stopped towards mid-morning. Aziraphale looked out at the damp streets and debated about opening the bookshop-

“Go for a drive, Angel?”

\- and decided against it. “That depends. Are you going to drive like a maniac?” He turned to see Crowley looking at him Innocently. It was amazing how much Innocence Crowley could project from behind his sunglasses. “Well, if you can manage to restrain yourself, then yes, I’d quite like to go out for a bit. Did you have anywhere in mind?”

Crowley shrugged, “There’s an outdoor Shakespeare performance over at Stratford-Upon-Avon, if you’re interested? They’re doing _Hamlet._ ”

One thousand watts of joy lit Aziraphale’s face, “That sounds lovely! Let me just get my coat.” Crowley smiled, watching him bustle off to the back room.

To his surprise, Crowley actually did stay moderately restrained and the drive out was actually almost pleasant. Once at the venue, Crowley reached into the back seat of the Bentley and drew out a tarp, a blanket, and picnic basket with bread, a small selection of charcuterie and cheeses, crudites, and - to Aziraphale’s utter delight - grapes. They made do with a bottle of ginger ale - which Crowley had emptied and refilled with sparkling wine. By the time the tarp and blanket were spread and the nibbles laid out, Aziraphale was practically wiggling.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Mmm, about a week,” Crowley shrugged, “Thought my angel could do with a bit of a break.”

Aziraphale wiggled again and Crowley thought his thousand-watt smile was a good stand-in for the sun on this overcast day. “You’re always so thoughtful, my dear. This is absolutely lovely!”

“Anything for you, Angel,” Crowley murmured, unaware that his own smile was moonlight to Aziraphale’s sunlight.

The play got started and they each settled in to watch - Aziraphale to watch the play, Crowley to watch Aziraphale watching the play. Aziraphale had taken off his shoes so he could sit cross-legged comfortably, his eager attention on the players, with pauses to smile his dazzling smile at Crowley sprawled out beside him. Crowley occasionally reached out for a slice of meat or cheese or a grape to swallow whole.

“Are you enjoying it, my dear?” Aziraphale asked after the first act, “I know it’s not one of your favourites.”

“Enjoying it just fine, Angel,” said Crowley, who didn’t give a damn about the play.

They’d fought to keep this. They’d paid eleven years for this. And now it was better than ever.

The play wore on and the nibbles disappeared until the players finally took their bows. Aziraphale turned his thousand-watt smile at Crowley and said, “That was splendid, my dearest!”

He looked much restored, with quite a bit of his vital energy flowing again. Crowley smiled, relieved. “Glad you enjoyed it, Angel.” He helped gather up the picnic things and put them back in the basket, then tilted his head, “Anywhere else you’d like to go?”

“There is that new Indian restaurant that just opened up down the road from the shop. I was thinking we could try it some time. Perhaps later?”

“Sure,” Crowley said. He opened the Bentley’s door for his angel and let his touch linger just a little longer than usual, watching as Aziraphale gazed at him with undisguised adoration. _”He was white. White hair, white skin, white raiment.”_ Well he hoped however this moment was recorded, it was with quite a bit better details than that!

He steered the Bentley onto the M40 for the long drive home. They were approaching Marylebone when traffic suddenly slowed to a crawl. Crowley groaned, “We may be here for a while.”

“Oh well,” Aziraphale smiled and placed his hand on Crowley’s knee, “At least it’s in good company.”

Crowley smiled back and looked back at the road. They weren’t going anywhere fast. He looked around and his eyes glanced at the side mirror. Then he looked again and frowned, “What the hell?” 

Aziraphale looked at him, “What is it?”

Crowley looked into the rear view mirror, “You’ve **got** to be kidding me! What are _they_ doing here?”

Aziraphale turned in his seat to look out the back window and gasped, “Where did they get those? Those are illegal outside of Olympic Park!”

“I’m thrown out for asking too many questions but they get to break traffic laws.”

“What bad angels!”

“We’re being chased by Archangels on illegal e-scooters, there is everything wrong with that.”

“What’s **wrong** is that you regularly drive this thing at ninety miles per hour and they’re on scooters that go fifteen and they’re gaining on us.”

“This is getting funnier by the moment.”

“Well if they catch us, it won’t be funny at all.”

Crowley had to concede that point. He took out his phone and started checking the other routes. He snarled, “Ah, there’s a big accident up ahead.”

Aziraphale glanced back. “Right,” he said and snapped down. 

Nothing happened.

He snapped down again. Nothing continued to happen. Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, “Did you happen to ask _how_ we were to change miracle sources, by any chance?”

Crowley bit his lip and looked chagrinned, “Nnnnnnnno.”

“Right,” Aziraphale sighed.

“I think I remember Raziel saying something about swipe left, but I thought he was talking about an app.”

“Right,” Aziraphale sighed again. He pushed his hand through his hair and down his face. As his thumb brushed passed the tattoo on his cheek, he felt it sting. He brushed it again and something _thunked_ inside him. “Oh!” he blinked, “Oh that **does** feel different.” His eyes widened.

Crowley eyed him warily, “Alright, Angel?”

“It feels like… no more budget,” Aziraphale inhaled sharply, “Right then! - Swipe left, you said?” He looked behind them with a decidedly un-angelic grin and snapped left.

Crowley watched in the side mirror as Gabriel hit a bump and crashed. Michael slammed into him and flew arse over teakettle on top of him, causing Sandalphon to do the same, making Uriel leap bodily from her scooter and crashing anyways, and Crowley burst into demonic cackling. “Score! All four pins, good job, Angel!” He looked at Aziraphale and they both broke up laughing. 

The traffic crept forward. “How did you do that?”

“Double-tap and snap,” Aziraphale explained, tapping his cheek.

Crowley mimicked him and felt the sting and _thunk_. He started to grin, “Oh geez…”

“It is quite different, isn’t it.”

“Let’s see if it works,” Crowley said and snapped right. Up ahead, several cars managed to peel off onto side streets, allowing the Bentley to move up and do the same. As soon as he had the room to do it, Crowley stomped on the accelerator, causing Aziraphale to yelp. “I’m not sticking around here,” he said.

“Do you suppose we should report that?”

Crowley chewed his lip for a moment then nodded slowly. “Yeah. If we’re the bait, they’ll want to know it’s been taken.”

* * * *

“I had a feeling,” Tawuse Melek nodded, back at the bookshop, “The calling card that I left was tripped. That didn’t take long at all.”

“They launched an attack but it didn’t look like an organised one,” Crowley said, “It looked more like an impulse grab.”

“He figured it out fast, a lot faster than I was hoping for. He’s going to make another move and soon.”

“Are you sure it will be us? If you left your own calling card, how would he know that it’s us?”

“If I may ask,” Aziraphale said, finally looking up from where he sat on the couch behind tented fingers, “What was I originally meant _for_? You said you wanted an angel to assist you, with what?” Tawuse looked at him. “Because it was Sandalphon who intercepted me and told me to report to Gabriel. But Raphael said you weren’t able to take the Library when you took over Lucifer’s purview, ao now I’m wondering.”

“That’s why I needed you to take the Library quickly,” Tawuse confirmed, “Will he know it’s you? - I really don’t know.”

“He probably suspects if he incited the other Archangels to pursue us,” Aziraphale said, “If that was him, of course.”

“I had Gabriel crapping bricks, Angel,” Crowley assured him.

“And Gabriel wouldn’t try that on his own, not this soon,” Aziraphale agreed. He arched an eyebrow at Tawuse, “So Sandalphon likely knew that I was supposed to go to you.”

“My Principality goes independent contractor, the Akashic Library up and vanishes, and my calling card gets tripped,” Tawuse nodded, “Then you guys get almost-ambushed. It’s a good bet he’s figured it all out.” They took out their phone and thumbed it open, “I know you aren’t going to like this much but I want people with you at all times. He’s still got the other Archangels and all of Heaven under his sway and I’m ninety-nine percent certain that that’s not all. I won’t have you facing that alone. I’m calling the whole team together.” They pressed send.


	21. Raz me Taz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bell over the bookshop door jingled. 
> 
> And Aziraphale _knew._ He turned around, not bothering with his business face. “We’re closed,” he said coldly.
> 
> “We didn’t come to participate in your sham of selling material objects,” Gabriel smirked.

The space beside him was cold yet his just-awake demonic senses told him he was not alone. He flicked his tongue, tasting the air. The taste of vanilla, sandalwood, linen and lavender was there but not warm and fresh. Overlying it was a different aroma, familiar yet he couldn’t quite place it. “Angel?” Crowley called. 

“He’s downstairs, talking with Raz about books,” a voice said, “They asked me to watch over you so no one gets any ideas if they think you’re alone.”

Ah, Taz - that explained the sage, coffee, and pipe tobacco aroma. Crowley blinked his eyes open and looked around blearily. The bed beside him was empty but so was the room, yet Taz had sounded like he was very close by. “Where are you?”

“On the wall behind the headboard.”

**That** woke Crowley up in a hurry. He got to his knees and peered behind the bed and cringed at what he saw.

“Yes, I know, I’m the stuff of nightmares,” Taz sighed. Crowley flopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers. 

Then he poked his head out with a grin, “Did you ever meet Beelzebub?”

“Um, once,” Taz said, “I just stared at them until someone asked me to leave. Apparently I was making them uncomfortable for some reason.”

Crowley actually cackled at that, “Good thing you didn’t have a parlour you could welcome them to!” Then he lay back onto the pillows, not quite ready to get up yet. “Why are you hiding back there, anyways? Other than to freak the heaven out of me?”

“Well, I thought maybe it would let you have a bit of privacy, but mostly I thought if someone **did** think you were alone and vulnerable, I could maybe spring out and jump on their face.”

“Ha!! Yeah, okay, that works.” Crowley yawned and stretched then sprawled out face down on the bed, pulling his pillow underneath him. “Hey, I’ve got a question…”

“You? That’s a surprise.”

“Shut up,” Crowley snarled fondly, “It’s about Aziraphale’s wings. They used to be white, see? Then before we knew we were reassigned, they turned beige and iridescent. At first we thought he was Falling, then it looked like it was part of the Peacock Angel thing, but Raz’s wings are iridescent but they’re white, so we’re a little confused.”

“Ah. Yes,” Taz sighed, “Well… Yes. They’re a bit toasted.”

“ _Toasted?_ ”

Taz sighed again, “They’re Falling, alright, it’s just, it’s a lot slower than it was for us. The more faith they lose, the darker their wings get. I don’t think you’ve met Jehudiel yet, his wings are as dark as storm clouds now. If an angel could be an atheist, that’s him. He’s only a few steps away from one of us now, really.”

“That’s hard,” Crowley said softly.

“Raffy’s wings are kind of bronze now. Raz’s wings, well, if you look closely they’re a bit off-white. None of them have pure white wings anymore, they’re all a bit toasted. It’s sad, really. We lost our faith all at once, well, it was destroyed… but watching theirs be just, chipped away at, I guess. They lose it bit by bit. I’m not sure which is worse, to be honest.”

“No,” Crowley said thoughtfully, “That confirmed my suspicions, at least. Tells me what to prepare for. He seems to be coping alright given what he’s uncovered but…” He shook his head and sighed.

“I like him. He seems nice.”

Crowley was silent. “He gave his flaming sword to the humans **after** they’d been thrown out of Eden,” he said quietly, “He gave it to them so they could hunt and keep warm and defend themselves. He was worried about them. He still worries about them long after Heaven stopped giving a damn. He’s spent centuries finding ways to bend orders to get around Heaven’s apathy, to try to help as many of them as he could. ‘Nice’ doesn’t begin to cover it.” He stretched and got up. “Just you and Raz?”

“Yes,” Taz said, coming out from behind the headboard, “For now, anyways.”

Crowley looked at his sunglasses then put them in their case and into his pocket. Then he looked at Taz and cringed, “Satan, Taz, you’re huge!”

Beat. “That’s what she said!” Crowley laughed and Taz crawled down the wall to the floor then changed to his human form, this time wearing a Spider-Man hoody. They went downstairs. 

They found Aziraphale and Raziel bent over Aziraphale’s new scanner, talking excitedly. Aziraphale looked up and one thousand watts of joy spread over his face, “Crowley!” As usual, Crowley was momentarily frozen in place by the brilliance of the angel’s smile and the force of the knowledge that it was truly because of him. Aziraphale stepped over to embrace and kiss him, then took his hand and towed him towards the scanner, “I was just showing Raziel how the new scanner works. Look at this! - he’s annotated my book and even signed it for me! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“One of a kind now, Angel,” Crowley agreed, unable to suppress his own fond smile.

“He was asking how the servers were working out so I showed him the server farm and how we got it integrating with the Akashic Library.”

“And now you’ve got it here on your phone,” Raz shook his head, “ **All** of it? The books had audio, video, emotion tracks…”

Aziraphale was nodding, “Ethereal, occult, plus descriptive text-” Crowley snorted. “A bit overly descriptive, we find. Yes, all of it seems to be working. I’ve figured out how to filter out the ones we don’t always need.”

“Amazing!” Raz said.

“You took the cable back?” Crowley noticed it hanging from the angel’s belt.

Aziraphale nodded, “Well I did borrow it. I really should return it.”

“Won’t it affect the uplink?”

“It has but Tawuse did offer to forge another one. I was showing Raziel so I would know what to ask for to have it built to purpose.”

Raz nodded, “They’ll build it, no problem, just ask. Honestly, Aziraphale, it’s not like Heaven at all.”

“I very much appreciate that,” Aziraphale admitted.

“So, what’s going on?” Raz asked carefully, “They said they’re expecting Heaven to _attack_ you?”

Aziraphale nodded, “We think so, yes. We believe that the agents of Hell who have infiltrated Heaven now know that we’ve uncovered their scheme.”

“But why attack you? How would they know you’re involved?”

“We think Sandalphon might have known that Aziraphale was originally supposed to go to Tawuse Melek,” Crowley said.

“Jesus Christ and Mister Rogers!” Raz exclaimed, “That arsehole?!”

“If you were going to tell me that an Archangel was one of Hell’s spies, that’s the one I would have pointed to,” Taz agreed.

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow at Raziel, “He was a problem for you?”

“Fuck yeah, he was the jerk who told me my position had been scrapped and I wasn’t needed anymore.”

“After Metatron was installed as the Voice of God,” Aziraphale noted, twitching his lip at Raziel’s language, which caused Crowley to smirk. 

“Aaaaand Metatron is Sandalphon’s brother,” Crowley finished.

Raz stared. “Yeah that would definitely warrant an all-call,” he breathed.

“We’ll be taking turns with the rest of the team,” Taz explained. 

Raz nodded, “We’ll try to stay out of your way and stay discreet.”

“That’s probably good,” Aziraphale said slowly, “They won’t want to attract attention if there are too many witnesses. Actually, that gives me an idea.”

* * * *

It was a bright and sunny day and the bookshop was open. Aziraphale had opened the shop so as to appear normal but also because scaring off customers was a great outlet for stress.

Crowley sat sprawled on the couch in the back room, watching people as they browsed the books.

“They’re never coming back, are they,” said Taz. 

“Nnnnope,” said Crowley.

“We’ve lost them for good.”

“Yyyyyup.”

Taz sighed, “Oh well. It was nice knowing them. They were good friends.”

Crowley just nodded slowly. Both Raz and Penny had immersed themselves in Aziraphale’s book collection and looked to have forgotten entirely their reason for being at the shop in the first place.

The bell jingled and Crowley groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s **her** again. That woman’s an enormous pest. She’s **determined** to buy Aziraphale’s _Prose Edda_ , she won’t even take a flat no for an answer. Aziraphale just can’t get rid of her.”

Taz frowned, “Why won’t he sell her the book?”

“He won’t sell **any** book.”

“Then what’s the point of running a bookshop?”

Crowley held up a shushing finger, “We don’t talk about that. We don’t ask that question. We just let him be and help him scare the customers.”

“Oh.”

“Hard time scaring that one,” Crowley sighed, “Turned out, she likes snakes.”

“Oh,” Taz said again. He watched with mild curiosity as the argument at the till desk increased. The set of Aziraphale’s shoulders told him the angel was growing agitated, though he was hiding it well. The strange smell in the bookshop had increased as well; Crowley had warned them about that. He turned to Crowley and innocently asked, “Does she like spiders?”

Crowley’s face split into a _wide_ grin. He savoured that for a moment. “I don’t know, let’s find out!”

“…Quite out of the question,” Aziraphale was saying firmly.

“You’ve been saying that every single time I come here,” the woman retorted, “It’s _very_ disappointing, Mr. F---*” She trailed off and her face drained of colour, her jaw working soundlessly as her eyes widened with horror. 

_Well it must not be Crowley, she likes Crowley,_ Aziraphale thought, watching as the woman turned a sickly shade of grey. He had a suspicion he knew what was behind him. The faint scent of sage and coffee confirmed it. He steeled himself and turned around. _Good Lord!!_

Even though he was prepared for it, the sight of Taz was unnerving. He wasn’t tucked in, oh no – clinging to the bookshelf end, head down towards the floor, he had spread his legs out. He had to be at least fourteen inches across from toe to toe. “Oh, hello!” Aziraphale said brightly. The woman made a strangled noise. He turned back to her and beamed. 

“Holy SHIT how did THAT get in here?!” someone shouted.

“First snakes, now spiders?!”

“This guy’s insane!”

“Look at the SIZE of that thing!”

“Dude! Permian era’s that way!”

“Holy FUCK!”

The screams and footsteps faded as the bookshop emptied. Aziraphale smiled and waved. 

“I just wanted to say hello,” said Taz. 

“Yes, that was very rude of them,” Aziraphale sniffed. He looked back at Taz. Then he and Crowley both burst into hysterical laughter.

“Okay, I did not expect you to be serious,” Arariel said, wiping his eyes. 

“I’ve never had to exaggerate about Aziraphale,” Crowley said, “Head Office didn’t believe me then they actually started meeting him.”

Chad blinked, “What, really?”

Crowley nodded, “They sent Ligur once. He actually came _here_ , to the bookshop, thinking he could challenge him! Aziraphale toppled a whole shelf full of Bibles and Qurans onto him.”

“’Whoops!’” Aziraphale grinned, “Bit of a butterfingers, that time.”

“Why am I not believing that?” Nuriel grinned.

“I was also holding a Torah. It may have slipped my grasp. Onto his face.”

“Ooo,” Chad winced appreciatively, “That sounds painful.”

Aziraphale looked around. Though the customers had been scared off, the shop was far from empty. Many angels and demons of Illumination were browsing where they’d been mingling with the customers, watching and waiting.

The bell over the bookshop door jingled. 

And Aziraphale _knew._ He turned around, not bothering with his business face. “We’re closed,” he said coldly.

“We didn’t come to participate in your sham of selling material objects,” Gabriel smirked.

“I thought you had agreed to leave me alone,” Aziraphale said. He was carefully not looking at Sandalphon but kept him in his peripheral vision. Around him, his angelic teammates withdrew to the edges of hearing. The demonic ones had vanished, most likely hiding, watching.

“Listen,” Gabriel hissed and crowded closer to Aziraphale. Aziraphale swallowed but stood his ground. “I don’t know what you think you’re playing at but your little rebellion is doomed to fail! You really think your pathetic little platoon can stand up against the whole of the Host?”

Seconds drew out. Aziraphale frowned. “Do you mean…? No, what are you talking about?”

“Your platoon witnessed your little snit fit with the quartermaster and the whole bloody lot of them have walked off to follow you.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Really? They all got a sudden attack of conscience and just walked off? Imagine that! Well they certainly aren’t here, if you were looking for them.”

“If you’re planning another rebellion, let me remind you of the last time someone got that idea into their heads. It didn’t end well for them.”

Aziraphale stood his ground. “Hellfire. Yes. But it seems to me you tried that one already.”

“There are other ways,” Gabriel assured him. He smiled in that way that Aziraphale had once described to Crowley as being like a cross between a game show host and a greasy used car dealer. Crowley had nearly sprayed his wine. Good times… “We can just discorporate you over and over and over,” Gabriel hissed.

Aziraphale crossed his arms over his chest and huffed impatiently, “You could **try.** You wouldn’t be the first, either. _Senior demons_ have tried to discorporate me. There are reasons why I’ve maintained the same corporation for six thousand years.”

Gabriel took off his cravat and snapped it out between his hands, “I can gavotte you and your whole little motley crew, myself!”

Aziraphale frowned and opened his mouth to say ‘I think you have the wrong word’ – then he realized, no, he didn’t have the wrong word at all. His expression firmed into complete confidence, “You think so, do you? Very well, I accept! Gavottes at dawn!” 

Gabriel frowned, “What?”

“St. James Park,” Aziraphale decided.

“Do you **really** think you can take on **me**?”

“Of course!” Aziraphale replied brightly, “The real question is, Do _you_ really think you can take on _me_? You have until dawn to decide. I will, of course, allow you to rescind at any time.”

“Me?! Rescind to **you?** _Never!_ ”

Aziraphale smirked, “That’s what I thought you’d say.” He walked to the door and held it open, “I’m sure you have lots of preparations to make! Lovely to see you again, love to Michael and all that. Bye bye, see you at dawn!” He beamed innocently into Sandalphon’s suspicious snarl and waved as the Archangels left. Then he slammed the door shut behind them and leaned on it. 

Crowley had both hands clamped over his mouth to contain his laughter. The teammates in the bookshop gathered around, looking puzzled but anticipating, knowing something was up. Aziraphale grinned most un-angelically then straightened up and clapped his hands, “Chop chop, everybody! Come on, we’ve got work to do! Call the rest of the team in! I’ve got twelve hours to teach all of you how to dance a gavotte!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He was aiming for "garrote" and went a few letters too far...


	22. Popcorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What on earth are they doing?” Gabriel was saying. Michael shook her head, still facepalmed.
> 
> “They’re doing a gavotte,” Sandalphon said, “As you requested.”
> 
> “You got the wrong word, you idiot!” Michael finally snapped.
> 
> "Here we go," Crowley whispered.

“The scouts say there’s something going on topside,” said Dagon.

Beelzebub didn’t look up from their stack of paperwork, “What is it this time.”

“The scouts report that all four of the Archangels were seen earlier chasing Crowley’s vehicle. They crashed. Quite amusing, they said. Then two of them turned up at the bookshop owned by Crowley’s angel friend.”

Beelzebub shook their head and picked up their pen again, “Doesn’t sound like much to be concerned about.”

“If something’s got the Archangels riled up again already?”

“That’s their problem, not ours.”

“Well, apparently there’s a group of angels and demons doing something in a park. A few of them have been tentatively identified as some of our escapees who vanished at various points in time.” 

The Prince of Hell paused, “Demons?”

“Yes, m’lord. And one of them is the traitor Crowley.”

Beelzebub looked up with an expression of distaste, “What are they doing?”

“Milling about, apparently.”

Beelzebub shook their head, “Not our problem.”

Dagon arched a dubious eyebrow, “Even if Crowley is corrupting more of our people? I would have thought you’d at least want to reclaim our AWOL citizens.”

“Fine. Send someone to collect them.”

“Who? Ordinarily, we’d send Crowley.”

“Send Hastur, then.”

Dagon chewed her lip, “Hastur hasn’t been… _reliable_ since Ligur… ended.”

Beelzebub threw down the pen with a frustrated sigh, “Fiiiiiine, I’ll do it myself.”

Dagon blinked, shocked, “M’lord?!”

“If you want something done…”

“You should at least take an escort!”

Beelzebub fixed her with a stare, “You’re right – Let’s go.”

The earth crumbled open as the two demons rose. After orienting themselves, Dagon took out a glass, put it to her eye, and focused it on the group of demons and angels seemingly milling around in a park.

* * * * 

“It’s a dance?” Nuriel whispered.

Crowley nodded, “And he _doesn’t know that!_ ”

Aziraphale smirked, “Gabriel doesn’t always understand the meaning of the words he says yet he’s bound by his word. We can use this. He’s just snookered himself because he’s an Archangel and he _can’t dance._ ”

Muriel frowned, “Um, but, **we’re** angels. We can’t dance either.”

Crowley grinned and tilted his head towards Aziraphale, “ **He** can.”

Aziraphale grinned, “You **have** rhythm or else you couldn’t sing. The trick is to get your body to realize that.” 

Muriel and Nuriel glanced at each other doubtfully. “But if we can’t…”

“We have demons on our team,” Aziraphale said firmly, “We’ll give it six hours and if you really can’t manage it, _we’ll cheat._ ” The angels gasped and the demons all grinned. “Listen! There is a lot at stake here. I am **not** risking this and I am **not** losing at **my** dance to that smirking… _bitch!_ ” Crowley grinned widely.

Raziel frowned, “How do you propose to cheat?”

“The demons **can** dance. We’ll do a partial swap and share their talent if we have to.”

This caused even more confusion. “But… demons and angels can’t just… swap,” Nuriel said. 

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other and chorused, “Oh yes we can!”

* * * *

“Well?” Beelzebub sighed, “What are our vagrants doing?”

“It looks like some kind of Morris,” Dagon said doubtfully.

Beelzebub frowned, “Let me see that.” They took the glass and peered through it. Abruptly they sucked in a sharp breath and whispered, “Oh no…”

“What? What is it?”

“I recognize that stigmata. Those aren’t ours anymore.”

“You’re just going to let—“

“Whatever this is, we’re staying out of it!” Beelzebub insisted.

Dagon stared at them, “Have you gone mad?”

“They belong to the Peacock Angel now. We can’t touch them.”

“We’ll see what His Lordship thinks about that!” Then she set her jaw and vanished into the earth.

Beelzebub looked at the crumbling earth where she had disappeared. _Fine. Let her report. If that’s truly what I think it is, He’ll understand._

Just before dawn, all four Archangels arrived in a blaze of lightning and thunder, along with a legion of Heaven’s forces. Beelzebub startled as a bag of popcorn suddenly appeared in their hands. They looked up. Crowley’s angel friend was smiling at them. He lifted a hand and waved. Crowley hadn’t looked away from the Archangels but a slow grin was spreading over his face and his shoulders were shaking.

Oh. Whatever this was, it was going to be _great._

* * * * 

By dawn, Aziraphale was facing off with his former boss. 

“You look awfully smug for somebody who’s about to be repeatedly discorporated,” Gabriel said.

Aziraphale smirked back, “You look awfully smug for somebody who’s about to lose.” He turned and waved to the band, “If you’d be so kind, my dears!”

The band began to play. The sun breached the horizon and the gavotte began.

And it was perfect. The rising sun painted everyone in pinks and golds. The angels who needed help stayed locked in step with their demon partners. The other angels had their faces drawn in intense concentration but they were keeping in time and their feet stayed untangled. Crowley drifted to Aziraphale and whispered, “Look at Michael.”

Aziraphale glanced peripherally. Michael had her hand to her forehead. Gabriel and everyone else looked confused. And Sandalphon… “Look at Sandalphon,” he whispered back.

Crowley looked, “He knew.”

“And couldn’t resist,” Aziraphale smiled.

“What on earth are they doing?” Gabriel was saying. Michael shook her head, still facepalmed.

“They’re doing a gavotte,” Sandalphon said, “As you requested.”

“I didn’t…”

“You did.”

“You got the wrong word, you idiot!” Michael finally snapped.

Beside Beelzebub, the earth crumbled open as Dagon reappeared with another demon at her side. “I’ve reported your egregious behaviour,” Dagon hissed, “Hastur will take you into custody.”

Beelzebub didn’t take their eyes away from the Archangels. Michael and Uriel were clearly furious with Gabriel, Gabriel was flustered about something, and Sandalphon was smug. “Worth it.”

“What are they doing?” Dagon asked, puzzled.

“Not whatever that pompous idiot expected,” Beelzebub drawled, “Popcorn?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” She took a handful. “His Lordship says He doesn’t care about any stupid birds…”

“What?” Beelzebub stared at her in shock.

“He says He knows nothing about any peacock angels,” Dagon insisted.

“How could He not know-” Beelzebub stopped mid-sentence and looked thoughtful.

The other group had finished their dance and were hugging each other and cheering. Then they waited, looking expectant. “Well?” said Aziraphale.

“Take your time, we have all day,” Crowley drawled.

“You did practice, didn’t you?”

“Of course we, we practiced,” Gabriel stammered, distracted by Michael and Uriel hissing at him.

“Would you like us to show you how it’s done?” Beelzebub called. Hastur sniggered. He didn’t know what the joke was but he knew a good sniggering opportunity when he saw one.

Gabriel glared at them, “What are you lot doing here?”

“Popcorn,” Beelzebub shouted back and waved the bag.

Gabriel snarled. He was looking less and less angelic by the moment. “Glad you could join us! Perhaps we’ll get our Armageddon after all.”

“Hey Crowley,” Beelzebub called, “If we reinstate you and clear your record, can we claim this one?”

“Piss off, this is ours!” Crowley yelled.

“Just thought I’d ask.”

“If they go this route, it’ll go bad for us, Angel,” Crowley whispered.

“They brought their weapons; I think that’s exactly what they wanted,” Aziraphale murmured back, “They must have told Beelzebub.”

“I don’t know. Beelzebub looks like they’ve realized something’s off.”

“And **they** haven’t brought any troops.”

Raz and Taz sidled up. “What do we do now?” Raz asked quietly.

“We need to distract them and somehow force Sandalphon to reveal himself before Gabriel,” Aziraphale said.

“What about Megatron? Do we need to get him out too?” said Taz. 

Crowley winced, “For Hell’s sake, Taz, it’s _Metatron_ , not Megatron, he’s not a bloody Transformer well I suppose he actually is, in a way but not like that!”

“Distracting them won’t be a problem,” Aziraphale sighed, “Gabriel’s about to lose his temper and he’ll take it out on **me** first.”

“Not if I can help it,” Crowley said darkly.

Taz paused. “Actually… I can work with that,” he said, and told Aziraphale, “I’ll have your back.”

Aziraphale looked at him cautiously, “Are you certain…”

Raziel reached out to touch Taz’s shoulder, “Taz…”

“They killed Isitir and Marduk, Raz,” Taz’s voice was flat. He looked at Aziraphale and Crowley, “My wife and son.”

“And we’ve just humiliated them in a dance-off,” Crowley said softly.

“Which means distracting them is gonna be real easy.”

“Are you idiots going to dance or what?” Beelzebub called, “Otherwise they’re going to win this dance-off by default!”

“Who appointed you judge?” Gabriel said, indignant.

Beelzebub waved their popcorn bag again, “We’re just enjoying watching you lose.”

“Where are your troops? We can settle this right here!”

“He’s right,” Hastur hissed, “We can-”

“This isn’t our fight! We do nothing!” Beelzebub hissed back.

“You need authorisation first!” Uriel said to Gabriel. 

“I can get authorisation!” Gabriel snapped his fingers. There was a bolt of lightning and the Metatron appeared. 

“Here we go,” Crowley whispered.

“We’ll settle everything right here,” Gabriel hissed. He turned and snarled at Aziraphale, “As soon as we’ve tied off some loose ends.”

“No Antichrist, no Horsemen - **not** the Apocalypse,” Aziraphale said.

Gabriel lunged. He seized Aziraphale by the throat and squeezed, “ **Shut! Up!** you pathetic little-” He broke off in shock as toes appeared on Aziraphale’s shoulder, followed by baleful black eyes and the largest spider he’d ever seen was rising from Aziraphale’s back.

“Get away from him, you bitch!” Taz growled.

Aziraphale seized Gabriel’s hand and pushed down as he stepped back, dragging Gabriel’s arm out and his body off balance. “Have you met my friend Taz?” he said brightly.

Taz ran down Aziraphale’s arm and up Gabriel’s to his shoulder. Gabriel screamed and clutched his neck, his other hand flailing at the demon. Then Taz sprang, legs spread, directly at Sandalphon, who looked up in time to catch a faceful of giant hairy spider. He screamed. Michael’s sword swung up, out, down-

_**”TAZ!!!”** _

Aziraphale shoved Gabriel off and ran to kneel beside the spider. He was cloven nearly in two down his length. Raphael rushed towards them. Uriel tried to block her and Raphael picked her up bodily and flung her into the massed legion. She knelt beside Taz and Aziraphale. “Taz! Taz, don’t move, sweetheart.”

“He’s still alive,” Aziraphale said, as one of Taz’s legs weakly tried to lift.

“His organs are in different places, that’s the only reason he hasn’t discorporated,” Raphael said, “Shh, don’t try to change, sweetheart, let us work.”

_”Raphael?!?”_ Michael stopped in shock, her sword raised. 

Penny put her hand on Michael’s shoulder and forced her to turn around, “Remember me?” before punching her hard enough to knock the Archangel, general of the Heavenly Host, out cold.

Uriel roared a command and the legion of angels unholstered their weapons. Raziel flung himself in front of Penny and every other angel of Illumination stepped in front of their demon teammates to shield them. 

“Annihilate the vagrants first!” Metatron roared, “Then onward to victory!”

And amid the chaos, Sandalphon aimed his weapon and sent a stream of molten sulphur, blue as cobalt, straight at-

_**”AZIRAPHALE!”**_ Crowley stared anguished as the molten sulphur dripped and pooled and the agonized screams of his angel his burning angel Aziraphale 

Aziraphale lowered the book he’d used to block the attack. “That really, **really** hurts!” 

Crowley nearly fainted with relief.

Until Aziraphale stared at the book, dripping sulphur and burning. Only once before had Crowley ever seen rage like **that** fill his angel’s eyes. “That was a first-run printing of the _Sepher Raziel HaMalakh_ , annotated and signed for me by the author, the Scribe of Heaven himself,” he took a deep breath and screamed, “ _ **And you’ve ruined it!**_ ” And he flung the book at Sandalphon. 

Crowley would never be entirely certain whether Aziraphale meant to do that or if he knew what would happen next or if it was as much a surprise to him as it was to everyone else. Because the Archangel Sandalphon screamed and pulled the book off and stood panting in rage. But **not** dying horribly.

Everyone stared in shock. Then a voice cried “HA!” and the heavens shook with thunder.


	23. Hey Lucy I'm Home!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well this is very, very nice, very well done. I gotta admit, Lucy, I’m impressed. This has to be **the** best con job in history, not to mention the longest. You had me completely snowed.” They smiled up at Metatron, who was staring down at them, looking puzzled and trying to hide it. Tawuse’s smile didn’t waiver, “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
> 
> This is it! The jig is up, the news is out!

“Hey Luuuucy, I’m hooooome!” A single figure in a hoody and jeans walked into the centre of the turmoil and smiled, “S’up, bitches?” 

“Excuse me, but you should leave,” Gabriel smiled, “This is not a good time and not a good place for humans right now.”

Tawuse looked up at him and their eyes flashed red for an instant, “ **You’re** the bitch who stole my Principality!”

Gabriel’s smile didn’t waver, “What?”

They grinned ferociously, “I stole him back!”

“What are you talking about?!”

Hastur frowned, “Who the blazes is that?”

“ **That’s** the Peacock Angel,” Beelzebub whispered.

Tawuse looked around, “Heyyyy, Fly Guy!”

“Morning, Lord Peacock.”

“What’re you doing here?”

“ **Not** getting involved, Lord Peacock.”

“’And all the demons say, you’re pretty wise for a Fly Guy,’” Tawuse singsonged. Around them, half the demons and angels of Illumination started giggling and Crowley grinned. “Goooood idea. Always good to have a witness, though,” they purred, “Well this is very, very nice, very well done. I gotta admit, Lucy, I’m impressed. This has to be **the** best con job in history, not to mention the longest. You had me completely snowed.” They smiled up at Metatron, who was staring down at them, looking puzzled and trying to hide it. Tawuse’s smile didn’t waiver, “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

Metatron definitely looked doubtful, “Should I?”

“Really? Really?” Tawuse scorned, “I’m insulted! But not surprised. You lot’ve done a really good job of trying to bury my existence. But there are still a few who remember.”

Beelzebub’s gut started to churn and they looked like they were chewing on a slug. “Our lord Lucifer,” they said slowly, “Doesn’t remember who you are.”

There was nothing at all kind or angelic about Tawuse Melek’s feral smile. “No, I shouldn’t think so,” they said, “Because while he’s **a** Lucifer, he’s not _the_ Lucifer. He’s Abaddon.” Beelzebub gasped. “He’s Lucifer alright but he’s not my twin.” Metatron’s face did something strange and he glanced nervously at- Tawuse spun on their heel and **grinned** at Sandalphon, “ _ **Right, Azazel?**_ ”

Gabriel turned as grey as his jacket. “A..A-Azazel?”

Sandalphon threw down his weapon with an un-angelic snarl. “Aziz,” he growled then smirked, “It took you long enough.”

“Yup,” Tawuse acknowledged, “But I’m not the **Sublime** Intelligence.”

“The… what?” Gabriel said in a weak voice.

Tawuse rolled their eyes, “Fly Guy, since you seem to be the only one here who remembers, would you mind reminding them?”

Beelzebub smirked but took a deep breath they didn’t need. “With the First Utterance, God emanated the first creations in the same moment, Aziz the Mighty Intelligence who is called Melek Taus, the Peacock Angel, and Azazel the Sublime Intelligence who is called Morningstar”

Sandalphon smiled.

Hastur gaped, “Wh… If he’s… then who’s…?”

“Yeah,” said Beelzebub. 

Gabriel looked sickly, “Y… You…”

Sandalphon - Azazel - turned to smile even wider and the gloat in his eye was terrible indeed. “I couldn’t have done it without _you_ , Gabriel,” he sneered, “You’re so easily steered. You’re so arrogant, so **certain** that you’re right, you never _ever_ stopped to question anything. And you don’t really know half of what you’re talking about. You’re so wonderfully easy to manipulate.” He leaned forward and whispered menacingly, “Even a Principality can do it!”

“I may be friends with demons,” Aziraphale said in a low even voice, “But I was _never_ their pawn.” 

Crowley turned to hiss at Beelzebub, Dagon and Hastur, “ _Get out of here!_ ”

Azazel roared and the air clanged with the sounds of gongs. Every demon screamed and was dragged to their knees, even Crowley. Even poor Taz was splatted out onto the ground, legs akimbo. The grass of St. James Park faded and became sand in all directions. Aziraphale stretched his wings, brushing them against Crowley’s, and they looked up at the two Seraphim, towering over the sand. 

With three cracks of thunder, Azazel opened his wings, blacker than Crowley's had been, blacker than night, a black that seemed to absorb all light. Aziraphale leaned down to Crowley and whispered, “Do you think Anish Kapoor will try to sue him for those?” Crowley burst into inappropriate giggles. He tried to clutch at Aziraphale and grabbed…

Tawuse Melek’s lariat. Aziraphale had forgotten he was still carrying it, under his coat. He glanced at Crowley and glanced at the dark Seraph. Azazel smiled terrifyingly, still with Sandalphon’s gold tooth. He unsheathed his weapons against the Peacock Angel who was unsheathing their sword.

_”I can restrain just about anything with that.”_

Aziraphale was a Principality and **much** stronger than he looked. He flung the lariat and _pulled._ Sinking to one knee, the other foot stretched forward and bracing, he looked back at Crowley and whispered, “Hold me.”

It took all the strength Crowley had just to lift his arms enough to wrap them around Aziraphale, pressing himself against his back. He grinned, realizing that Aziraphale was using the weight of Crowley’s invisible chains against the Morningstar himself. “I’ve got you, Angel.”

Aziraphale leaned back to press his cheek against Crowley’s and whispered, “For as long as you want me.”

“That’ll be for the rest of eternity,” Crowley smiled. 

Aziraphale smiled back, “Then that is how long I’ll be yours.” Crowley tucked his chin against Aziraphale’s shoulder. They both rocked against the thrashing of the enraged Seraph but the chains of Hell held them firm.

Time seemed to slow to molasses. Without a sound, the Peacock Angel skated past on their knees, sliding on their greaves along the ground, skimming the burning Sword of Truth along the surface of the sand. The demons didn’t feel the passage of the Sword of Truth beneath them but they felt its effects. Crowley lurched as the weight of the chains vanished and he was free. Penny forced herself upright and pushed her dupatta over her shoulder to cover the mangled stump of her missing wing. Taz staggered to his feet, stretching his stripped and pinioned wings, and raised his head, a lurid fresh scar bisecting his face. 

Aziraphale wrenched on the lurching data cable as the Seraph Azazel screamed. A pillar of negative light enveloped the Firstborn, condensing as he changed into the form of a serpent with the head of a lion. The Sword of Truth continued its arc to land a critical strike on the lion’s head. Their ears rang with the harsh cry of the peacock as a pillar of rainbow light erupted from their being, coalescing into the form of the Rainbow Serpent and six flaming wings beat the air.

Motion caught Crowley’s eye and he turned in time to see Metatron lunging at them, throwing something. He staggered back as it hit him full in the face. He looked down at himself to see white powder clinging to his shirt and in his hair. He licked his lips and frowned. Then he flicked the salt off his shoulder and sneered, “Do I look like a slug?!” He changed and sank his fangs faster than the Voice of God could blink. 

Aziraphale sucked in his breath. He let go of the lariat then scooped up the red-bellied black snake and flung Crowley over his shoulder, “I don’t think we want to be needed here for any longer!”

“Run, Angel?”

“Run!”

Then a pillar of fire descended from above and everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abaddon  
> [An angel of destruction](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abaddon) who is also identified with Satan. Sources differ on who he works for and whether he's Fallen but images usually depict him as ugly enough to stand in for GO's Satan XD 
> 
> Azazel  
> Hoo-hoo [this guy's complicated!](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Azazel)  
> Many sources place Azazel as [the first created of the angels](https://mythology.net/demons/azazel/) and the first to defy God's orders. He is considered to be Lucifer and also associated with Iblis, and many sources do consider Azazel to be Lucifer's angelic name. Azazel later appears in the Book of Enoch as one of the Watchers, which is interesting on its own. Bit of a trouble-maker there, too.  
> Yes, Azazel's wings were a dig at Vantablack. 
> 
> The Sublime and Mighty Intelligence  
> My laptop locked up after I found this interesting article on the angelic Intelligence of God and I lost the URL and now I can't find the blasted article again. But it was fascinating, about Lucifer as an emanated Intelligence of God, and described him alternately as sublime (as in grandeur and awe) and as mighty (imposing and powerful). Since I'd already split Azazel and Aziz into twins, it made sense to split the Intelligence as well. The word 'sublime' carries with it an air of mystery that befitted an angel who was playing a very long and secret game, while the word "mighty" carries connotations of breadth and expansion that befits an angel who has learned to make use of the talents of their team. 
> 
> The Lion-Headed Serpent  
> This is [an aspect](https://thegodabovegod.com/why-does-the-demiurge-have-a-lion-head-2/) of the [Demiurge](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demiurge) of Gnosticism. According to [some sources,](http://symboldictionary.net/?p=991) the lion face represents enlightment, emerging from the base earth represented by the serpent body. The Demiurge isn't actually related to Azazel or Lucifer. 
> 
> The Rainbow Serpent  
> The [Rainbow Serpent](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainbow_Serpent) is a figure from Australia. They're associated with [enlightenment, art, culture, and morals.](https://bahaiteachings.org/what-does-aboriginal-rainbow-serpent-symbolize) The Rainbow Serpent has no association with the Peacock Angel except in this fic.
> 
> Fiery-Winged Serpent  
> This is one of the classic representations of Seraphim.
> 
> Salt  
> Folklore suggests throwing a bit of salt over your left shoulder to combat the demon there. Folklore isn't always accurate....


	24. That's What I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THOU HAST MUCH ANGER WITH US IN THY HEART. THOU HAST NEVER FAILED TO SPEAK THY MIND BEFORE. SPEAK NOW.
> 
> “Are You going to answer?”
> 
> YES.

CROWLEY THE QUESTIONING

Crowley opened his eyes but the light was too bright to look into for very long. The brilliance obscured everything else and he couldn’t see where he was. He suspected he wasn’t anywhere. “Yeah?” he drawled. He sounded sulky even to himself.

WE’RE NOT QUITE AS DISCONNECTED AS THOU BELIEVEST US TO BE. There was another long pause. NEITHER ARE WE AS ALL-KNOWING AS WE’VE BEEN REPRESENTED.

Crowley lifted his chin defiantly and shielded his eyes with his arm, “Maybe keep a closer watch on your PR team, next time.”

Another long pause. IT IS A LARGE UNIVERSE. THOU HAD A HAND IN ITS CREATION. DIDST THOU IMAGINE THAT OF ALL THE WORLDS THOU HELPT CREATE THAT WE WOULD SEED ONLY THIS?

“Are they all as badly run as this one?”

WHEN WE REQUESTED THOU WERT TO BE DISCIPLINED, WE HAD IN MIND MORE ALONG THE LINES OF A SHARP NOTE. WHEN WE LEARNED OF WHAT HAD HAPPENED, WE WERE GREATLY DISPLEASED.

Crowley ground his teeth, not sure what to make of that. “Yeah well,” he said, “Apparently that was part of someone else’s ineffable plan.” He couldn’t keep the bitter scorn out of his voice, though he didn’t really try very hard.

WE ARE AWARE OF THINE OPINIONS ON OUR PLAN. 

“I’ll bet you are,” Crowley grumped.

WHEN WE LEARNED OF THY FALL, WE HAD OUR FIRST INKLING THAT SOMETHING WAS AMISS, BUT IT WAS NOT UNTIL THOU PASSED THE TESTING OF THE FLOOD THAT WE UNDERSTOOD.

“Hang on, that Flood was a **test?** ”

IT WAS A TROPICAL CYCLONE. A SERIES OF THEM, THE SEA WAS PARTICULARLY OVERHEATING AND IN NEED OF MANAGEMENT. THEY WERE NOT MEANT TO OVERLAP HOWEVER. WE WERE UNAWARE OF THE EXTENT TO WHICH OUR ORDERS HAD BEEN MISCONSTRUED NOR WERE WE AWARE THAT IT HAD BEEN SPUN INTO A STORY OF OUR WRATH.

“And the rainbow thing?”

WE SENT OUR FIRST-BORN, THE MIGHTY INTELLIGENCE, TO INVESTIGATE

“Ohhhhh,” Crowley gasped, comprehending, “So the rainbow thing was a lie to cover up the sudden appearance of the Rainbow Serpent!”

THAT APPEARS TO BE CORRECT

“So how was that a test?”

DURING ANY NATURAL DISASTER, WE ARE ASKED ‘WHY DID YOU NOT DO SOMETHING?’ THE ANSWER IS ALWAYS, WHY DID YOU NOT DO SOMETHING? YET THOSE SENT TO OBSERVE DID NOTHING. ONE PASSED YET TWO DID NOT FAIL.

“Raphael and Aziraphale.”

CORRECT

“They were **ordered** not to help.”

WE WERE UNAWARE OF THE STORY THAT HAD BEEN TOLD. 

“Heaven’s been doing that to him for thousands of years, forcing him to watch and not letting him intervene!” He tried to keep his voice from rising with outrage. His forehead had started to itch.

THOU HAST NEVER FAILED HIM 

Crowley was silent.

THOU HAST MUCH ANGER WITH US IN THY HEART. THOU HAST NEVER FAILED TO SPEAK THY MIND BEFORE. SPEAK NOW.

“Are You going to answer?”

YES.

Keeping the rainbow in mind, Crowley launched into his long string of complaints. The answers sometimes sickened him, sometimes made him even more angry, but mostly assuaged him. It took a long time. “You have **got** to get more involved,” he said finally, “This governing by remote thing You’ve got going is just **not** working out. I bet most of this wouldn’t have happened if You’d been paying closer attention.”

THIS IS WHY WE HAVE RECRUITED THEE TO AZIZ FIRST-FORGIVEN. THY LIPPY MOUTH ASIDE, AZIZ FIRST-FORGIVEN RECKONS THOU HAST DONE NOTHING THAT WARRANTS FALLING IN THINE OWN RIGHT. DESPITE THINE OPINIONS OF OUR PLAN, THOU HAST BEEN ONE OF ITS MOST TRUSTWORTHY EXECUTORS. AZIRAPHALE PRINCIPALITY OF THE LIBRARY HOLDS THEE WORTHY OF HIS LOVE AND FORGIVENESS.

“And what about Yours?” Crowley groused.

IS THAT WHAT THOU WISHT?

Crowley’s mouth worked a few times then snapped shut. _”Unforgiveable. That’s what I am.”_ But… was he? _”May you be forgiven.”_ And… was that what he wanted?

“Not if it means going back to Your lot in Heaven,” Crowley decided, “They’re as abusive as Hell, I mean that. I saw how they treated Taz when he was Tamiel and what they did to him after he got married. I saw what they did to Penny and Chad. I’ve watched how they’ve treated Aziraphale for thousands of years. I witnessed it myself, when they tried to murder him. If earning Your forgiveness means going back to that lot, then I’ll face You and walk back into Hell!”

IT DOES NOT. THIS IS BETWEEN THEE AND US.

Crowley paused - that was different. He thought of the many times he’d ranted to a God he was certain was no longer listening. He thought of the many times he’d asked what he’d done that was so wrong. _”I only ever asked questions!”_ He thought about Heaven… But Heaven didn’t have anything to do with this. _”And the Arrangement? Got you an excuse to do a bit of blessing again, didn’t it? And you’re always talking about the stars.”_ He knew Aziraphale would want it but it wasn’t about what Aziraphale wanted. 

_”You were an angel, once.”_ He felt Kochbiel staring at him across the memory of six thousand years. “Alright,” he said at last.

Another long pause. WHAT IS DONE IS DONE AND CANNOT BE UNDONE BUT CAN BE CHANGED. Crowley rubbed his forehead, which was really starting to sting. IF THOU HAST DONE NOTHING WRONG, THEN THERE IS NOTHING TO FORGIVE.

Crowley blew out a hard breath, trying to clamp down on his tears. He felt Kochbiel Falling, wondering why his questions were so wrong. He felt Crawly, standing confused on the wall of Eden, wondering why it had all gone so wrong. He felt Crowley, watching a carpenter’s son being tortured to death, wondering what the young man had said that was so wrong. It seemed to Crowley that he’d spent an awful lot of time being confused and wondering why. 

_All for nothing. All of it for nothing. Everything I went through was for no reason at all. And I don’t even get_ … “Then what do You **want?** ” he snapped in frustration, trying to control his voice. His forehead was really burning now.

TO APOLOGISE.

Crowley had no answer to that. He stared into the light, blinking, confused.

BELIEVE IT OR NOT - THOUGH WE SUSPECT THOU WILT NOT \- WE HAVE THOUGHT LONG ABOUT THY FINAL QUESTION. WE CONCLUDED THOU WERT RIGHT.

Crowley remembered. He remembered which question had been the final straw, the one that had prompted his Fall.

WHAT WILL EARN _THY_ FORGIVENESS?

 _His_ forgiveness? _God_ was asking for _his_ forgiveness? Crowley felt the pressure of tears and rage and fought to keep them contained. What on earth could make up for Falling like that? For all his years of service to a Hell he wasn’t really loyal to, but had served because he had nowhere else to go? What could make up for what had been done to Penny and to Taz and… He swallowed hard and looked at the light. “Give them a chance to explain,” he said, “I wasn’t the only one who Fell because of Lucifer’s traps. Shemyaza and Yeqon were rapists, alright, but Penny and Taz, they didn’t do anything wrong, they just fell in love.”

DID WE NOT MAKE IT CLEAR THAT LOVE WAS OUR HIGHEST LAW?

“Well it’s all been divided up by caste and gender and nationality and race. Can’t have angels falling in love with humans,” Crowley sniffed. ”Or demons,” he added under his breath. “Let them tell their sides of it.”

ALL OF THEM?

 _Beelzebub, Hastur, Dagon?_ Crowley chewed his lip for a moment then nodded, “Yes.”

 **ALL** OF THEM?

 _Gabriel, Michael, Metatron?_ Crowley thought of Heaven, of the Archangels standing idly by as Sandalphon encouraged a minor demon to strike at Aziraphale. He thought of _”Shut your stupid mouth and die already,”_ said with a game-show host’s grin. “Yes,” Crowley said. He tipped his head, “I’m not asking You to let them off, just to let them dig their own holes themselves. So to speak.”

WE UNDERSTOOD THINE IDIOM.

“Just hear them out, first,” Crowley sighed and then his forehead blazed like mad.

IT SHALL BE DONE

* * * *

Tawuse Melek’s eyes snapped open. “He did it!” they gasped, “He did it! I knew he could do it! I knew he’d be the one!”

Aziraphale looked up, puzzled, “What? Who? Who did what?”

“Look!” they pointed, nearly delirious with joy.

Aziraphale peered into the column of fire, eyes watering from the brightness. A shadow moved and he realized a figure was emerging and he stared.

Garbed in black embroidered with copper, his auburn hair fell in coils and waves past his shoulders. His wings scintillated like black fire opals. Between his black brows burned the same disk of flame that decorated the brow of the Peacock Angel - “He wears the Kiss of Forgiveness!”

One million watts of joy lit up Aziraphale’s face, “ _ **Crowley!**_ ”

Crowley stared. He had only seen Aziraphale smile like this _once,_ on the wall of Eden. In fact, the only other time Aziraphale had ever smiled like this was at a discreet gentlemen’s club, the first time he had gotten through a complete gavotte without once tripping, losing the beat, or accidentally smacking someone in the face. And now that smile was turned on _him._ “Look at you,” Aziraphale cooed, reached up to cup Crowley’s cheek, “You’re lovelier than ever!”

Crowley stared, still unable to speak under the brilliance of Aziraphale’s smile. His angel was _glowing_. His hair was nearly white, feathery fluffy, each curl defined, his eyes bluer than ever, his wings like creamy opals and he _glowed._ “Angel…” he finally managed.

“Look at you,” Aziraphale whispered again. Above them, the Seraph Aziz was singing. Aziraphale traced a fingertip lightly along Crowley’s forehead and his eyes were damp. “We knew right away.”

“It stings like anything,” Crowley admitted.

“I imagine it will for a while to come,” Aziraphale said gently. 

“You’re glowing.”

Aziraphale nodded, “Yes. I have received Her blessing. And you were right-” He leaned forward and whispered, “You did do the right thing, I did do the wrong thing - and it is funny!”

Crowley looked puzzled for only an instant, then he smiled. He touched his forehead to Aziraphale’s and together they laughed, while the Peacock Angel sang.

Until a strange little gasping noise made them look around to see another shadow emerging from the divine flame. Crowley frowned. The shadow resolved into a ferret, doing the funny little ferret waddle-run. It ran up to them and went into a frenzy of excited dooking. It had a burning disk on its forehead. Then it ran over to Raziel and dooked ecstatically. Raz was just as puzzled, until the ferret began to change and he gasped. “It’s me!” Taz beamed. 

“ **Taz!** ” Raz gaped at Taz’s forehead where the Kiss burned, “You’ve been Forgiven?!” He caught Taz in a hard hug and his tears overflowed.

“Why are you a weasel?” Crowley demanded.

“Well, you set such a good example…” Despite themselves, Aziraphale and Raziel laughed.

Crowley rolled his eyes, “You’re not a spider anymore!”

Taz nodded, “My mouth feels really weird.”

“You have teeth!” Raz said, “And your eyes…!”

“This is going to take some getting used to.”

The Seraph sang. The flame shifted again and Penny emerged, garbed in copper-edged black and peacock blue silk, her wing like a black opal. No disc burned upon her brow but she carried a parchment. She stared at Taz and her eyes welled over. She waved the parchment, “I have a list of things to do and then I will be…” she broke into choked sobs. Taz reached out to hug her. 

Raziel began to sing, lifting his voice to join the Peacock Angel’s. Crowley and Aziraphale embraced, laughing with joy as one by one, the angels and demons of Illumination emerged from the divine flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Flood  
> I cannot find it for the life of me and believe me I've searched for the last three months. But there was a natural history programme on the TV some fifteen-odd years ago (History channel, I believe it was) where they traced the story of the Flood back to a version well before the Babylonian Utnapishtim, back possibly before Sumerian. It started simply with "the gods sent a deluge", with no reason for it (ie not to punish, not to wipe out humanity), and it went on to describe how 'the king' (more like highly successful merchant) was caught in the flood and swept out to sea with his barges of livestock. The programme went on state that the earth may have gone through a warming trend around that time and warmed enough for the sea to support tropical cyclone formation. 
> 
> The southern Alberta flood of 2013 was caused by the outflow band of a long-lived semi-tropical cyclone buzzing off the coast of Washington/Oregon. Yep, the outflow band reached all the way into Alberta and dumped rain for over ten days, just a steady constant downpour day and night. Coupled with ground that just wasn't equipped to absorb that much water and the whole region experienced record catastrophic flooding. So I could well imagine how an arid region experiencing sudden constant rainfall for days to weeks from an unseen major storm system could flood out similarly. Exaggeration with repeated storytelling would do the rest. And if an original Fallen Angel and his minion were looking for an opportunity to usurp the voice and face of God…
> 
> Crowley the Questioning  
> Explaining this is better left to Jewish readers, but it's come up in discussion with a Jewish friend, about Crowley and the Four Children, particularly the Wicked Child. But we also discussed him as a sort of celestial Elmira so make of that what you will... 
> 
> Tawuse Melek's song  
> I kept listening to [_The Host of Seraphim_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7iqxzURgQWg) from Dead Can Dance while writing this. It became the song Tawuse sings as Crowley emerges from his audience.


	25. Ils S'Aiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you.”
> 
> “Wh’t f’r?”
> 
> “For being you.”
> 
> “Wh’t ‘lse ‘m I g’nna be, ‘n aardvark?”
> 
> “Well, if you’re not a demon anymore…”
> 
> “I don’t know what I am, now.”
> 
> “You’re my wily serpent. You’ll always be my wily old serpent.”

“You were gone for such a long time, my dear.”

“I might have had a lot to get off my chest.”

“It’s done some good… Come here, my dearest.”

“…In some ways, it’s left me even more angry. So much didn’t have to happen.”

“I know, my dear. Come here. I’ve got you.”

“I know.”

“What happened, Angel? Do you know?”

“Tawuse Melek triumphed, that’s all I really know. Raphael and the Merkabah Pahaliah took the other Archangels into custody. Taz bit Gabriel and Sandalphon. His venom was slow to act but swift in effect once it did. It’s also necrotising.”

“Well, he’s a spider, it would be. Well… he _was_ a spider.”

“Quite. Your venom paralysed Metatron. I don’t think they knew you had venom. They were very surprised.”

“You’d almost think they didn’t read any of your reports.”

“ _*chuckle*_ Truly. I did mention it on several occasions.”

“Just like I mentioned you could make nearly anything flame if you really wanted to. Belial shouldn’t have been at all surprised by that flaming kebab skewer.”

“I wasn’t near finished with it either. That lamb was splendidly tender.”

“ _*snort* *laugh*_ ”

“I’m not entirely certain what happened because I had my own audience. When it was over, I had quite a long talk with Tawuse Melek.”

“Hang on, you’re just going to gloss over your audience with God?”

“Well… Just a little bit. Just until I decide how I feel about it all.”

“Oh.”

“As you said. And as usual, you speak the thoughts I was already thinking.”

“That feels nice.”

“I must admit, I’d always wanted to do this, back when you wore it long like this.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. How long will you keep it for?”

“Dunno. …I always thought you liked it better when it was short.”

“It’s **your** hair, my dearest. What you do with it is your choice. My preferences don’t enter into it. Though I do think the curls suit you.”

“Mmh.”

“Everything looks different now.”

“Does it really? How so?”

“S’got more colours.”

“Really! How interesting. Your eyes don’t look any different. Still golden and beautiful.”

“…..Good.”

“I’ve agreed to keep the Library. I wasn’t certain, at first. There’s a job that goes with it that I wasn’t sure I wanted.”

“They’re not taking you back to Heaven, are they?!”

“Not at all, my dear one, not at all. I’m staying right where I belong, here with you.”

“…Wasn’t worried.”

“Of course not.”

“Wasn’t.”

“Lies.”

“Demon!”

“Not anymore.”

“Yes, I thought maybe. Let it out, dear heart. It’s only us.”

“Thank you.”

“Wh’t f’r?”

“For being you.”

“Wh’t ‘lse ‘m I g’nna be, ‘n aardvark?”

“Well, if you’re not a demon anymore…”

“I don’t know what I am, now.”

“You’re my wily serpent. You’ll always be my wily old serpent.”

“I don’t know how you do this.”

“Do what, my dearest?”

“Manage to stay so steady all the time. Seems I’m always the one falling to pieces and you’re the one holding me together.”

“Say that every time I was sent on an Observation.”

“Ngk.”

“There’ll be plenty of opportunities to return the favour, my dear.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s going to be an inquiry into the behaviour of Gabriel and Michael and the others. I will be presenting the histories from the Library.”

“ ** _Oh…!_** Oh, Angel, _no!_ With the emotion tracks and everything?! Aziraphale, that’ll be like _reliving_ it!”

“I know, I know. But I’ve thought about it and I feel I want to do this. I’ve already spoken with Pahaliah, she’s been behind many of the recent advances in the field of psychologic therapy. Raphael will be there as well, and Raziel will be Scribe.”

“Angel…”

“I know. And I **will** need you, Crowley my dear.”

“Seeing everything they did to you… This could break you, Angel.”

“I know. But how could I back away when you opened your own wounds to ask for forgiveness?”

“……”

“Tawuse Melek said the reason there aren’t more Forgiven is that most people don’t find it in themselves to ask. But you did. And I’m so glad.”

“Why?”

“Because even though it’s brought you pain, it’s also brought you a measure of peace.”

“ _*sigh*_ It doesn’t feel much like peace.”

“Mmm. Perhaps ‘closure’ is a better word.”

“Maybe…. Yeah.”

“Your Book of Life ended. Or rather, the Book of Life of the Demon Crowley ended.”

“It what?!”

“Mm-hmm. It now has a cross-reference, ‘See also Crowley the Forgiven.’”

“Oh dear, I seem to have run out of tissues.”

“Can I see it?”

“Of course!”

“You see? Here and here. You always looked so… stressed and anxious… and always a little grumpy if I’m honest…”

“Oy!”

“Now… You see? I’ve only seen you look that relaxed and happy a few times.”

“...”

“Once was on the wall of Eden. The first time you made me laugh.”

“I see whoever’s writing the text descriptions hasn’t improved any.”

“ ** _*snort*_** _*giggling*_ I really should ask Raziel about that, shouldn’t I. It _can’t_ be him, he’s been absent for so many centuries.”

“Does it still burn?”

“Tingles a bit, yeah. Can you feel it?”

“Yes. It tickles.”

“Hmm.”

“I like this.”

“Me too.”

“She apologised, Angel. She asked what would earn **my** forgiveness.”

“Is that why She started summoning the other demons?”

“Yeah…”

“Thought maybe it was you. That was very-”

“Don’t.”

“I was going to say ‘compassionate.’”

“Nnngh. That’s worse.”

“You can do that now, when you’re an aardvark.”

“ _*glare*_ ”

“ _*giggle*_ ”

“Hmph.”

“There’s another handkerchief in the desk drawer behind you.”

“Nhh… You’d think I’d have run out of tears by now.”

“I doubt it, not for a while yet anyways.”

“Don’t know when I turned into such a crybaby.”

“Yours isn’t the kind of pain that’s going to be fixed simply with an apology and a kiss, my dearest. It’s going to be a long journey. But I’m glad for your sake that you’ve taken the first steps.”

“Mmh.”

“My dear brave serpent.”

“Hmph… Says the one who walked into battle carrying a fourteen inch demon spider on his back.”

“I didn’t really think of it like that, to be honest.”

“How did you think of it?”

“Mm… Facing Gabriel with a good friend who had my back rather literally. His toes tickled. I must admit, though, if I ever run out of cocoa, remembering the look on Gabriel’s face will keep me warm enough.”

“ ** _*snort!*_** _*laughing*_ Yeah that was a classic ‘dawning horror’ expression. Wiped the smile right off of him.”

“And then when Taz jumped **right** on Sandalphon’s face! And his fur _itches!_ ”

“ _*laughing*_ I don’t know if that was stupid or brilliant or brilliant stupid or stupidly brilliant but it was something.”

“ _*giggling*_ ”

“You were something too, Angel. Using my chains like that? You amaze me.”

“Says the demon who got the Antichrist to deny Satan three times.”

“Yeah and he wasn’t even the right Satan, though, I wonder how that’s gonna affect things? Makes me wonder which one was really Adam’s father?”

“Mm. Best not to borrow trouble, my dear.”

“That’s what I do best, is borrowing trouble!”

“That’s true.”

“I think the speed at which She started on that restitution says something about the sincerity of Her apology.”

“I don’t know if I’m able to deliver on my end.”

“Perhaps not yet.”

“Not very good at forgiving.”

“Nonsense, my dear. You’ve had lots of practice, forgiving me.”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For not saying ‘I told you so.’”

“Never, Angel.”

“You’re right. I’m angry.”

“Me too, Angel.”

“And disappointed.”

“Very.”

“I really don’t know how to feel about this.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a manual for this sort of thing, no.”

“Told you you’d get your chance soon enough.”

“I’ve got you, Angel.”

“I know. It’s the one thing I could be sure of. I’m so sorry I wasn’t as faithful.”

“Water under the bridge, Angel. You were there when it really counted.”

“See, you **are** good at it.”

“Shut it.”

“She asked why I didn’t tell Her what I’d done with my sword.”

“Well your wings still aren’t black and your eyes are still human so They must not have been that upset over your answer. What’d you tell Them?”

“I said I feared for what She would do to them next, given She had already cast them out defenceless and Eve already with child. She went silent for a long time. Then She told me that by giving them the sword, I had given them not only fire and truth but war.”

“Ouch! Oh, Angel…”

“Purely because of its own nature. The sword was a weapon of war no matter how kindly it was given. But you see, I had also given them fire and **that** was shaped by both the sword and my intention. Which is how they got heating and cooking but also fire bombs and immolations. So you see, I **did** do the wrong thing.”

“Yeah you gave them the sword to defend themselves and to hunt with and the fire to keep them warm and cook their food. If it was wrong, it was for the right reasons.”

“That’s what She said. We had rather a long talk but it all left me feeling… so very disappointed. How can you just **not notice** what was being done in your name? How can you care and just not pay any attention at all?”

“They told me They’re not as disconnected as I think They are but They’re still much too disconnected.”

“Afraid we must agree on that score, my dear.”

“Mmm.”

“And you were right again, we **have** been doing Her work all along.”

“Although how turning the London Orbital into a prayer wheel of evil is part of Their plan, I don’t know, but okay.”

“And a burning ring of fire.”

“And a burning ring of fire, yeah. I mean, **I** didn’t plan that, can’t imagine why They’d plan that.”

“Did you notice the wings on our other angel teammates? Well, apart from Pahaliah. She manifested rings instead of wings.”

“That was terrifying. Who’d expect a bloody _Throne_ had gone walkies?”

“It certainly took **me** by surprise. Anyways, their wings. I noticed they’re all shades of beige, brown, and gold, even Raphael’s.”

“Taz said it’s because you’re all slowly Falling. As your faith is eroding away, your wings are getting toasted.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Reason for Falling: Gave God a right talking-to.”

“ _*laugh*_ Well then we both did that. But you said you’d received Their blessing, Angel? That’s got to count for something.”

“And you received Their forgiveness. Does it?”

“ _*sigh*_ Yeah, you’re right, it does.”

“You said there was a job that went with the Library, what was the job? I presume it wasn’t cataloguing the books, you’d be all over that one.”

“Mmm. Apparently the Library was meant to be used in the judgement of souls.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh, yeah. Can’t see you going for that. You’re more of the ‘cataloguing books’ sort of person.”

“Quite.”

“But you decided to keep it anyways?”

“Yes. We had a few rough ideas for how to make that work.”

“…Not giving up the bookshop, are you?”

“When we’re just getting into online business? Perish the thought.”

“Hey, speaking of which… What happened to Raz’s book? You threw it at Sandalphon in a rage but you don’t seem terribly upset about it now, what happened?”

“Oh. Well, you remember that I had been showing Raziel how the new scanning system works?”

“Yeah? Oh!”

“We had just finished scanning the book!”

“Haha!!”

“Poor Gadreel.”

“Hmm?”

“That was his name, the angel who went with Azazel.”

“Oh right, yes. You did say you’d lost a few angels in black hole collapses. Azazel was supposed to have been imprisoned in one.”

“Yeah, Gadreel was the one assigned to carry it out.”

“Yes. But Azazel threw him into the collapsing singularity and stole his face. That’s how he escaped.”

“Yeah. Poor guy. The whole time I was in Heaven, I couldn’t put my finger on why Sandalphon looked so familiar.”

“…What?”

“Only figured it out when you told me. He’d put on more weight and less hair and got the gold tooth but, yeah, it was him. His face, anyways.”

“Did you know him? Gadreel? He was a Watcher?”

“Hm? Yes. Only a few of us really knew him, though. You could count the number on one hand and have fingers left over. But I was one of them, yeah.”

“And… did you know him well enough to tell if something was off about him…?”

**”FUCK.”**

“That’s it, isn’t it, Angel? There it is.”

“I think so, yes.”

“Asking too many questions was just the excuse he gave them to convince them to cast me out. The real reason was because I probably would have figured out that Gadreel wasn’t Gadreel.”

“And then he was very careful never to let you see him as Sandalphon.”

“Because I would have known right away that something was off.”

“Thank you, Angel.”

“I asked Her why She had sent me to the Eastern Gate when She knew Tawuse Melek needed me.”

“Hm?”

“She said you needed me more.”

“Guys? Guys! Yoo-hoo! Earth to bookshop guys!” A hand waved and broke their gazes then tapped their shoulders.

Crowley jerked his gaze up and snarled, “For Hell’s sake, Raz, what is it??” 

“Got your attention, **finally,** ” Raz rolled his eyes, “Look, I’m sorry to interrupt, but the boss really does need to talk to you, okay?”

Crowley glared at him, “So you had to just barge in here? I’m pretty certain the door was locked. You couldn’t have texted? Phoned?”

“Check your messages?” Raziel countered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aziraphale reach for his phone and go pale. “We **did** text you! **And** phoned!”

“Two hundred and seventeen text messages, oh dear, how did I miss this?” Aziraphale breathed, “Is that the _date??_ ”

“Whoops,” Crowley said, staring at his own phone.

“I suppose we did get a bit wrapped up in each other,” Aziraphale said sheepishly. He stared out the window at the snow that now blanketed the street and cringed.

Crowley scrolled through the group chat messages, biting his lip at things like _”Are they alright? What are they doing?” “They’re just wrapped around each other with their heads together, just staring at each other being happy, I dunno.” “For four weeks??” “Yeah.” “Sometimes it just be that way.” “Taz gets it.”_ “Nngh… Yeah…. I guess we did, a bit. Sorry, Raz.”

Raz shook his head and waved his hand, “It’s cool, the boss hasn’t been feeling too hot so they’ve been kinda putting it off too but they **really** need to talk to you. And then we all need to get back to work but there’s some big changes coming down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Azazel and Gadreel  
> Both of these angels are listed as members of the Watchers yet both names are also considered to be names of Lucifer. Gadreel is sometimes listed as deceiving Eve, hence he's often considered to be the Serpent of Eden. However, Gadreel also taught "the use of weapons and killing blows", which fit nicely with the more violent Sandalphon of _Good Omens._
> 
> The Fate of Azazel  
> The original lore states that Azazel was changed hand and foot by Raphael to rocks, in utter darkness. Other lore has him bound and thrown into the deepest pit in the desert. One story has him thrown into the heart of a dark star, and this is the one I have gone with. 
> 
> Azazel and the Scapegoat  
> Apparently this is what 'azazel' originally was, a ritual of sacrificing goats as literal scapegoats. So it makes sense that Azazel would be very good at finding scapegoats.
> 
> Title  
> Title is from Daniel Lavoie’s 1983 song [_Ils S’Aiment_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uz6GIWbGtyw). It’s hauntingly beautiful and really sums up the mood I was aiming for with this chapter. English translation is [here.](https://lyricstranslate.com/en/ils-s-aiment-they-love-each-other.html)


	26. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, that was… unexpected,” said Beelzebub.
> 
> "y-Yes..." Dagon stammered.
> 
> "Why **now?** That's what's bothering me," Beelzebub said, "All I can think is it's something the Peacock arranged."
> 
> Dagon said nothing, twisting her hands. 
> 
> "I won't say it wasn't productive," Beelzebub admitted, "I've agreed to some requests. There'll be some changes."
> 
> "I'm leaving," Dagon blurted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changes for the change of the year :) Happy 2020, everyone :)

"You sent for me, your bitchiness?" Crowley said. He stood in a cavern rough-hewn from red rock, lit by torches on the walls and a large firepit near the centre of the space.

A familiar chuckle answered him and he relaxed somewhat. The shadows moved with the dry sound of scales shifting on rock. The silhouette on the wall was enormous. Then the head of the Rainbow Serpent appeared in the firelight, nearly twice as large as Crowley's entire body. "Good one," the Serpent said, "Hello, Black Snake."

"Yo bitch," Crowley grinned, then grew serious, "Y'alright?"

"In time, I will be," Tawuse sighed.

Crowley peered into the shadows, taking in what he could see of the bulk of the body. "You look ill," he said. The silhouette on the wall seemed bloated in a way that looked... _wrong_ , somehow. 

"He escaped his eternal punishment," the Serpent said softly, "He would have escaped again."

Crowley squinted, feeling a dawning horror.

"His best qualities can be preserved and his toxicity will be purged."

"You hope," Crowley said, feeling sick himself, now.

The Rainbow Serpent chuckled, "That's why I need you, Black Snake." They shifted a little closer, "New orders. Raphael is taking over Heaven. Beelzebub is renovating Hell. I've been asked to take on the world - literally, They want me to ensoul it - and then coordinate with the other two."

"That sounds like a big job."

"You called me Glinda once. You weren't wrong about that," the Serpent flicked their tongue. They exhaled a dry, dusty breath. "What happened to Azazel could happen to me. You know what they say about 'live long enough.'" Crowley nodded. "You have a powerful moral compass. You ask good questions. I need you to keep asking good questions. Hold my feet to that fire."

Crowley thought about that for a moment. Then he shifted, feeling this conversation might be better approached Serpent to Serpent. "You gonna listen?" he said gently, "That seems to be a big problem with people in charge, they eventually stop listening."

"Or they listen to the wrong people," Tawuse agreed, "The lesson of Gabriel. I don't particularly wish to experience that lesson myself." 

"What's going to happen to him? And Metatron? The rest of the Archangels?"

The Serpent sighed again. "They are... in disgrace, shall we say."

"Fallen?"

"No," the Serpent said and chuckled, "No, They've decided that method wasn't particularly effective. Creates resentment."

"Ya don't say," Crowley said.

"Mmm. Demonic venom has many unpleasant side effects, it turns out. Gabriel and Metatron won't be up and around for quite a while. Taz's venom has left Gabriel particularly damaged."

"I'd like to be sorry but I saw what he did to Aziraphale for too many years," Crowley said in a dry tone. 

The Rainbow Serpent chuckled again. They shifted their head so they could look directly at Crowley. "Will you do it? Be my Advisor? Keep me from crossing that line?"

The Serpent of Eden stared back. An eternity might have passed. Finally he nodded, "Yeah, alright." 

The Rainbow Serpent flexed and pushed a few coils forward, carrying their bow. "You'll need this," they said, "Or more likely, Aziraphale will."

Crowley eyed it uneasily, "What for?" The silence drew out and became its own answer. "I hope it never comes to that," he said softly.

"So do I."

Crowley took the bow and set it down beside him. He tipped his head at Tawuse, "What's this mean for your purview? Your team?"

The Seraph sighed again, "I'm keeping the purview, of course, but I'll need someone to take over coordinating it and to be my liaison between Heaven and Hell. To be honest, Black Snake, you're my fifth choice."

"Me? Aren't I too green at this?"

"Choices One through Four are either leaving or uninterested in all the travel and headaches. You seem to thrive on those."

"I do," the Black Snake agreed reluctantly. To be honest, it sounded like a lot more responsibility than he cared for, though the creative problem solving sounded like a lot of fun, as did the 'making things happen' part, but the liaison part... Then an image rose before his mind's eye and he stared at it for several seconds before- "I'll do it."

The Serpent's head jerked up, "You will?"

"Yup! I'll be your advisor and your team lead. And your liaison officer."

"How about 'emissary'? That's less of a mouthful."

"That works," said Crowley.

"Alright. And Aziraphale will keep the Library. He has the knowledge part covered," Tawuse sighed, "Thank you. I will connect with you later and we’ll spend some time together to show you how I do things. Then you can decide how you want to go forward." Crowley nodded. "Now, I'd like some time to grieve. He was still my twin."

"Of course," Crowley said softly, "I'm sorry for your loss." He shifted back to his human form, "You know where to find me when you're ready."

* * * *

Beelzebub walked slowly through the crowded halls of Hell, heedless of the many bodies struggling past each other. They walked to their office and sat at their desk, tenting their fingers, deep in thought. 

There was a tap on the door and they looked up as Dagon sidled in. "Um," she began, twisting her hands. 

Beelzebub waved a hand at a chair. Dagon thumped into it. “Well, that was… unexpected,” said Beelzebub.

"y-Yes..." Dagon stammered.

"Why **now?** That's what's bothering me," Beelzebub said, "All I can think is it's something the Peacock arranged."

Dagon said nothing, twisting her hands. 

"I won't say it wasn't productive," Beelzebub admitted, "I've agreed to some requests. There'll be some changes."

"I'm leaving," Dagon blurted. Beelzebub stared at her and she hastily pulled out a parchment. "Topside. I'm going to the world." Beelzebub tipped their head to regard her. Dagon swallowed and nodded, anxious, "I... I've been asked to take a look at the oceans. For reconciliation. I'm... Then we'll review again."

The Prince of Hell nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "I suppose that goes with the changes I've agreed to make." Dagon had been Lord of the Files for six thousand years. She was a steady fixture in Hell's landscape, a top-notch general. She had fought in the first revolution. Her efforts during the run-up to Armageddon had been exemplary. As had her efforts during the abrupt wind-down. “I wouldn’t tell anyone else. They’d look on it as treason.”

“Yes, I thought as much.”

“We’ll say you’re on an extended assignment.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll receive a commendation before you go.”

“Thank you, m’lord.” Dagon got up and went to the door. She paused, looking like she wanted to say something else, then changed her mind and left.

Beelzebub watched her go. "We'll miss you," they said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melek Taus and the world  
> The Yazidi believe that [God created the world then entrusted it to Melek Taus](https://www.britannica.com/topic/Yazidi) after he was forgiven. 
> 
> Further legend states that [Melek Taus inhabits the earth](http://www.yeziditruth.org/the_peacock_angel), coming to calm the earth down. This is strikingly similar to a European legend about Lucifer, one version of which can be found in [_The Living World of Faery_](https://www.amazon.com/Living-World-Faery-R-Stewart/dp/1892137097) by R.J. Stewart. This Lucifer appears to predate European Christianity and probably got subsumed into the Abrahamic Satan/Lucifer legends, as happened with so many European figures.


	27. Funkytown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you like Ethiopian food, Crowley?” Raphael purred, “I’ve booked my favourite restaurant for us all. We’re taking over the place! Many changes will be announced and it’s rare to get everyone in one place, even the saints.”

”…so funny! All that time we were buying from each other and never knew!”

”You were excellent at it. Your cultivars were very popular.”

”Were they? That’s lovely of you to say.”

The soft voices penetrated as Crowley rose up through the fog of sleep into semi-consciousness.

”What do you think? Is it something you’d be interested in?”

”It does sound lovely. I’m certain Crowley would be very interested in your greenhouse but I’m not sure I would let him tend your plants!”

”Oh?”

”I’ve heard him tending his own plants, you see. It’s an adventure. I’m sure your plants are used to quite different treatment.”

”Bad?”

”Let’s go with… _therapeutic._ ”

”Oh nooooo!”

“Y’r t’lking ‘bout me,” Crowley slurred.

“Yes, my dear, we are. Did we wake you?”

Crowley hummed, flicking his tongue out near Aziraphale’s ear, “Mmm… n’t r’lly.” He slid his head along Aziraphale’s jaw as his vision came into focus. It was late afternoon and they were in the back room of the bookshop. He was draped around Aziraphale’s neck and shoulders while Aziraphale sat in his chair with tea and chatted with a visitor in low voices. 

“Raphael was just telling me about her cottage near the Devil’s Dyke in Sussex, where she has her farm. It turns out I used to buy seeds and cuttings from her, Raphael Botanical Research!”

“Wait, what?” Crowley said, still sleepy, “You’re telling me **two** angels were running grow-ops?”

“I grow the goooood kush, darling,” Raphael purred, chuckling, “It was my plant! My gift to the humans! It eased so many of their ills and brought them closer to God - and they made it illegal!” She shook her head and smiled, “I will miss it. It will be announced tonight at the party but with the other Archangels under arrest, I will be going back to Heaven to take over for a while.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Crowley yawned, showing his fangs.

“She’s offering to let us use her cottage and maintain her farm. It’s in the South Downs, so it would be lovely. I was thinking perhaps as a holiday home?”

“Yeah, I really can’t see you giving up your bookshop altogether,” Crowley agreed, “Besides, I like London.”

Aziraphale pressed his cheek gently against the serpent’s head with an affectionate smile, “I know you do, my dear.”

“A holiday home would be fine,” Raphael said, “Many of our team came to visit me when they needed respite. It is a well-loved farm. I would be more than happy if you wished to use it as a sort of time share.” She held up a cautioning finger, “But _only_ for our team. No renting it out to the humans.”

“Perish the thought,” Aziraphale sniffed and smiled, “What do you think, my dear?”

“Mmmph.. ‘Need coffee b’fore I c’n th’nk ‘bout stuff like that,” Crowley yawned again. He slid down the back of Aziraphale’s chair and behind a bookshelf, then emerged a few moments later running his fingers through his hair and sliding his sunglasses into place. “It sounds good to me, though,” he said, leaning against Aziraphale’s chair, “Why Devil’s Dyke? Seems a bit odd for an Archangel to settle near a place like that.”

Raphael grinned slyly, “An inside joke with Penny.”

“HA! Alright. What’s this about a party?”

“Do you like Ethiopian food, Crowley?” Raphael purred, “I’ve booked my favourite restaurant for us all. We’re taking over the place! Many changes will be announced and it’s rare to get everyone in one place, even the saints.”

Crowley nodded and turned to Aziraphale, “Yeah that was a surprise, that guy’s a saint?”

Aziraphale shrugged, “Apparently so. I still have his best friend’s hat, it’s on the coat stand. Perhaps I can return it to him.” 

Crowley nodded and looked at Raphael, “What time and where?”

“Two hours,” she replied, “I have to meet with Raziel first so I will leave now. I’ll text you with the address.”

“Sounds good,” Crowley nodded.

* * * *

“Text from Taz,” Crowley said, looking at his phone, “Asks if we mind taking a few others. That alright, Angel?”

“It’s your Bentley,” Aziraphale shrugged from where he was reshelving books after scanning them, “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll tell them to meet here. Most of the team know where the bookshop is now.” Crowley tapped out the message and pressed send.

Twenty minutes later, two more demons and another angel had arrived. Aziraphale hastily shelved the book he was holding. “Oh! Merkabah Pahaliah!”

The Throne was even rounder than Aziraphale and did not look at all capable of subduing a legion of Heaven’s forces and arresting the Archangels, let alone taking command of the Host. And like Aziraphale, her appearance was deceiving. “Principality Aziraphale,” she smiled, taking his hands and kissing his cheeks, “How are you today? Did you try any of my suggestions?”

“I did and they are helping. I’m very grateful,” he smiled.

“These are Ditr and Piotr,” Pahaliah introduced the two demons.

Crowley frowned and tipped a finger at Ditr, “Fourth Forgiven, right? Sorry, I was a little distracted at the time.”

Ditr nodded, “I was **not** expecting that.”

“Me neither,” Piotr agreed, “I got a list and then we’ll talk again.”

Crowley nodded. His phone chirped and he thumbed it open to see Raziel on Facetime, “We’re just pulling up to the shop! You guys ready to go?”

“Just about,” said Crowley. 

Aziraphale looked out the window of the bookshop, “Oh! It really does have disco lights!”

“What?”

They grabbed their coats and went outside to where the Mini was pulled up behind the Bentley. The road surface beneath the Mini was illuminated by four pools of light that were changing colours in time to the music on the Mini’s stereo. Inside the cabin, the cupholders and footwells were illuminated by colour-changing running lights and Taz’s wide grin, “Hiya!”

“Seriously?” Crowley did his best to sneer.

Taz grinned even wider, “Does your Bentley have disco lights?”

Crowley glowered at him, an effect completely lost by the sunglasses. “That is the **last** thing I would want to put on my Bentley.”

Taz looked at the large black classic car parked ahead of him, with the NIAT RUC number plate. It gleamed. It was indeed a very beautiful vehicle, with a depth that spoke of something supernatural about it. He looked back at Crowley with a decidedly demonic smirk, “So it’s boring, then.”

Crowley snarled at him. “I’ll show you boring,” he said, “Where are we going?”

“Up to Oxford Street then follow me,” Taz said.

“Fine,” Crowley huffed. He went to open the doors for his passengers, giving Aziraphale the front seat as usual, and gave him his phone. 

“They’re always like that,” Aziraphale was explaining, “They’re good friends.”

“I do actually like the undercar lights,” Crowley admitted.

“I heard that!” said Raz, over the Facetime. Crowley winced.

He reached for the Bentley’s radio just as Taz cranked the stereo on the Mini, causing the Vengaboys to spill out into the Bentley. Then the Mini peeled away from the kerb and Taz passed, waving with a cheesy grin. Its number plate read 2SASSY4U. Crowley sighed, put the Bentley in gear, and followed, “At least it’s a change from Queen.”

Aziraphale glanced at him, “I thought you liked Queen?”

“The Bentley likes Queen,” Crowley clarified. They were approaching Oxford Street.

“No,” Aziraphale said. Crowley glanced at him and put on his blinker. “No,” Aziraphale said again, “We have passengers.” Crowley gave him an innocent look. “One of them is a Throne, Crowley.” Crowley approached the light. “You can’t anyways, Taz is in the way.”

“I can move him.”

“ _Crowley!_ ”

“What’s the problem?” came Raz’s voice.

“He likes to speed.”

“Oh,” Raz said doubtfully. The Mini rounded the corner and traffic mysteriously parted before it. “Um, so does Taz…” The Mini took off like a shot. Crowley floored the accelerator with a wicked cackle and the Bentley launched in pursuit.

“I am not happy with either of you!” Aziraphale yelled over the roar of the Bentley’s engine.

* * * *

“…Not dining with you for a _month!_ ” Aziraphale threatened as Crowley sauntered grinning into the restaurant.

Raphael smiled at them, coming up to embrace them and kiss their cheeks, “Welcome, my friends! Did you have a good drive over?”

“They tried to drag race,” Aziraphale sniffed. 

“And sing!” Raz added.

Pahaliah grinned, “I’m not sure if that was a joke or a level of Hell.”

Aziraphale shook his head. Demons could sing about as well as angels could dance, the difference being they don’t care. And when the original Four Non-Blondes version of the _”What’s Up?”_ song came onto the Mini’s stereo, filling both cars over the Facetime, Taz tried to sing along until he was overcome with a fit of coughing as usually happened when he tried to sing. So Crowley took over. Crowley **could** sing - badly, to the delight of little Warlock, who always begged for lullabies just so he could laugh about it later. He went full operatic, to the delight of the other demons, who joined in. Two cars full of demons deliberately trying to sing the _”What’s Up?”_ song as badly as possible and Aziraphale’s sides still hurt from laughing. 

They took their places at the tables and Aziraphale paused to appreciate the aromas of curries coming from the kitchen. “I have ordered for everybody, so please take what you wish,” Raphael said.

The wait staff were halfway through bringing the trays of food out when Aziraphale noticed that the seat beside Raphael had been filled. He nudged Crowley who looked over and winced - Tawuse Melek did not look well at all. Then a tray lined with injera bread, piled with different curries, stews, and other dishes, was placed before them, distracting Aziraphale with the deliciously complex fragrances. He waited until Raphael had begun tearing off pieces of the bread to pick up pieces of curry, before diving in himself with his usual enthusiasm. Crowley sat back to watch, occasionally picking up a piece himself. 

“Alright, Taz?” Raz said. 

Crowley looked over. Taz now had a luridly angry red scar bisecting his face from forehead to chin and Crowley suspected it might have gone right around his head, possibly through it. Raphael and Aziraphale had done their best but there was only so much they could do for a demonic wound from a flaming angelic sword. But he didn’t seem to be disturbed by it or in much pain. Instead he was picking at his food, trying to hide a disappointed expression. “What’s wrong?”

Taz was silent for a few minutes before finally admitting, “It needs vinegar.” He put his face in his hands.

The whole room burst into laughter. “Oh nooooo, Taz!” “Oh, _Taz!_ ” “You poor thing!”

“I was a spider!” Taz cried, “And venom is acid! So everything tastes like vinegar-stewed whatever!” Raz and Penny reached over to hug him, laughing. “I like the bread,” he admitted. Raphael got up, went to the kitchen door, and returned with a plate of lemon and lime slices and small carafes of wine and rice vinegars. 

A third of the way through the meal, Tawuse Melek stood up and waited until they had the room’s attention. “First of all, no I’m not okay right now, yes I will be okay. It’s just going to take some time,” they sighed. “I honestly didn’t think it would be over this soon. I figured another five hundred years at least, not a few weeks. We have Aziraphale to thank for that. And yeah, I took some damage but without Taz’s venom weakening Azazel and Aziraphale and Crowley lassoing him, it would have been a lot worse. You guys are fucking amazing and I mean that. I truly couldn’t have done this without you. I couldn’t have done this without **all** of you. Every one of you who found your way to me brought me updates on what was going on in Heaven and Hell that let me figure out that something was wrong in the first place. You’re all fantastic. Oh and that gavotte? Was magic.” They let the applause rise and fall before they continued, “I know you’ve heard that some changes are coming down so I’ll get right to the point. The management structure of Heaven, Hell, and the World are changing. Raphael and Pahaliah are going back to Heaven. Pahaliah is taking the Host and Raphael is taking over the command structure and renovating it. Raziel will be going back to help with the transition.” Shocked exclamations and sad moans greeted this news - Raziel was very well liked. 

“I’m not going away permanently,” he promised, “I’ll be back.”

Tawuse nodded and continued, “Beelzebub will be renovating the structure of Hell. And I have been asked to take an active part in the World. They’ve _finally_ recognised that the humans are no longer pieces on the game board, they’ve dealt themselves in as players and oversight just isn’t enough. They want me to ensoul the World and manage it more directly.” Shocked silence met this. The angels and demons all looked at each other as they digested this news. “Which means I will no longer be actively running the purview, so when you call on me for help, it won’t be me who answers.” They took a deep breath and blew it out, “Since Raphael and Raziel are returning to Heaven, Penny has a special assignment, and Jehudiel is happy with his work, Crowley has agreed to act as my Emissary.”

Crowley waved. Beside him, Aziraphale gasped, turning to stare at him with his thousand-watt smile. 

“I know he’s new to us but if you don’t know his CV yet, Crowley is the Black Snake, yes **that** Black Snake,” Tawuse continued, to delighted gasps and interested stares from those who didn’t know, “He’s got a lot of experience with answering prayers and bestowing blessings as well as curses, and he is very good at critical _and_ creative thinking. I think he’ll be an asset towards helping you get your work done.” There was a smattering of applause. “And speaking of assets, we have acquired the Akashic Library! Aziraphale has decided to stay on as Librarian for a while which is good because I don’t think it wants to let him go. …which reminds me,” they picked up a bag and handed it to Aziraphale, “The cables you asked for. Multiple because Raziel had some configuration ideas he thought might improve data transfer speeds.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale smiled, taking it.

Tawuse nodded. “I am delighted not to be the only Forgiven Angel anymore. I stand in good company with Crowley, Taz, and Ditr.” A round of polite applause greeted this. “Those of you whose differences were irreconcilable, please know I am so, so glad that you took the opportunity to talk it out because that just hasn’t been possible before now.”

“We’ll see what happens after the reorg,” one of the demons said, and others nodded. 

“You betcha,” Tawuse agreed, “And that’s it from me for now. I’m not gone, I’ll be shepherding Crowley around for a while until he’s got the hang of things. I _will_ be back, first Wednesday in April, same as always, for our annual get-together.” Raphael, Raziel and Pahaliah all chorused agreement. “Until then, you’ve all been fantastic and it’s an absolute joy working with all of you and I am really going to miss that.”

The room erupted into applause, cheers, and tears.

* * * *

“Oh by the way, they found that star,” Taz said.

Crowley frowned, “Which star?”

“The one that got away.”

Crowley looked puzzled then his eyes widened behind his sunglasses. “What’re you talking about? No stars got away.”

“Yah, remember when we were skeeting at Sagittarius A*?”

“Nothing happened!” Crowley laughed, “No stars got away! Work with me here, Taz…”

“Well they found the one that didn’t get away.”

“Nobody’s hearing nothing!”

“I’m hearing another story time,” Tawuse said and pushed their drink far away.

“What did they find?” Aziraphale asked.

Taz grinned, “They’ve clocked it at six million klicks per hour.” 

“ _What?_ ” Crowley burst out laughing.

Taz nodded with enthusiasm, “Yah! They figure it was doing several thousand klicks per second when it was ejected!”

“Oh crap, no wonder we couldn’t find it,” Crowley laughed.

“They traced the trajectory back to Sag-A, it’s definitely the right star.”

“Oh noooo,” Crowley groaned, laughing.

“It’s leaving the galaxy! That thing is **gone** , brother!” Taz chuckled and pointed the trajectory, “Pop fly!”

Tawuse was laughing as hard as they’d predicted they would. “Did you guys actually yeet a star right out of the galaxy?”

“Not on purpose,” Crowley admitted, “We were goofing around skeeting stars at the black hole to see how close we could get them without them falling in.”

“Only one of them got caught in too close with two others and they kind of collided and the next thing we knew, BOOM! - and one of them disappeared!”

“Like, it literally just vanished!” Crowley added, “And we were both like ‘Where’d it go?’”

Taz nodded, gesturing as he spoke, “Like, you’d expect to see it zooming off there, right? But no! It was just **gone!** Crowley went up to look for it and then he comes back and he’s all ‘I don’t know where it is!’ and we’re both like Oh fuck we lost a star!”

“To be honest, we thought it had vapourised,” Crowley admitted.

Aziraphale looked at him from the corner of his eye with mock-judgement, “And you lied to cover it up?”

“Where’s your flaming sword, Angel?” Crowley shot back, smirking.

“I didn’t _lie_ as such,” Aziraphale said primly, “I just… omitted a few details.”

Crowley imitated him, “Well we _omitted_ a few details, too.”

“Like the whole incident,” Taz added, grinning.

Crowley spread his hands, “Hey, we didn’t get in trouble!”

“I’m starting to see why you guys Fell,” Muriel gasped. Nuriel was laughing too hard to speak. 

So was Tawuse Melek. Crowley grinned over at them, “Still want me as your Coordinator?”

“I’m just going to have to listen for the gaps in your reports, aren’t I,” they wheezed. They wiped their face and looked at him, “Was anything harmed by it?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t care,” Tawuse grinned, “Seriously, all I’m hearing is that you guys have fun with your work and shit happens. I already knew you were a championship rules lawyer. Between you, him, and Aziraphale, there’s going to be lots of entertainment.”

“That’s probably true,” Aziraphale nodded.

“Okay but what I want to know,” Piotr said, “Is what about that snake?”

“Oh not the snake thing again,” Ditr groaned. 

Penny grinned and jerked her head at Crowley, “Ask him!”

Crowley looked up from staring at Aziraphale, who was finishing dessert, “Ask me what?”

“Serpent of Eden, right?” said Piotr, who had had rather a lot to drink. They all had, by this point.

“The very same,” Crowley smiled. 

“So how did you get around before God cursed you after the apple thing?”

Aziraphale started laughing. Crowley rolled his eyes and sighed, “I was cursed long before that. I’ve been a snake ever since I Fell.”

“But the Bible version says you were cursed to go on your belly but you were a snake so how did you get around before that?”

“You do know the Bible was not _entirely_ accurate,” Aziraphale chuckled.

“So did you have legs?”

Ditr rolled her eyes, “Of course he didn’t have legs, listen to what he’s telling you! He was a snake!”

“So how did he get around, then?”

“Well obviously he rolled around!” Ditr twirled her finger. Aziraphale broke into giggles.

“No he didn’t,” Taz said, “He went end over end, like this.”

Crowley stared at him, “What?”

“Obviously not,” Aziraphale said, “Or he wouldn’t have been called ‘Crawley’, he’d’ve been called ‘Slinkey.’” Crowley stared at him. 

And the table burst into a chorus of “EVERYONE KNOWS IT’S SLINKEY!” Crowley scowled at them.

“Ouroborous,” Penny said, “He bit his tail and then rolled everywhere like a wheel!”

“Hello, I am sitting right here!” Crowley interjected, “This is **me** you’re talking about! I did not roll anywhere in any fashion!”

“Of course not, that’s ridiculous,” Raphael added, “He was coiled up like a spring and he bounced all over the Garden.” Aziraphale put his face in his hands.

“I did not bounce around the Garden!” Crowley snarled.

“Then how did you get up the Wall?” Piotr asked slyly.

Ditr’s eyes lit, “Oooh! Yes! That was a high wall! That would’ve been hard for a snake to climb!”

“But if he boinged up…?” Piotr suggested with a grin.

Penny smirked, “Aziraphale, you were there - how did he climb the wall of Eden?”

“I have to admit, I was looking the other way. He came from inside the Garden and I was watching Adam and Eve out in the desert. I didn’t see him arrive.”

“A- _HA!_ ” Piotr cried triumphantly, “Proof!”

“ _Proof?_ ” Crowley said incredulously, “That’s not _proof_ of anything!”

Penny waggled her finger, “It’s not _not_ proof!”

“I did not **boing** onto the wall of Eden!” Crowley yelled, “I am not a fucking spring!” Aziraphale collapsed onto the table, laughing so hard he’d gone silent. Raziel was crying laughing. Crowley caught sight of Tawuse Melek, who had their head on their hand and was laughing silently. “They’re a snake too, why aren’t you asking _them_ these ridiculous questions?”

“They weren’t at Eden!” everyone chorused. Crowley slammed his forehead onto the heel of his hand and shook his head.

“But are you _still_ a snake?” Ari wanted to know.

Crowley looked mystified, “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, Taz isn’t a spider anymore, now he’s a ferret.”

“I’m still a snake,” Crowley assured them, “What else would I be? _Don’t say it!_ ” he rolled his head at Aziraphale, who was grinning. 

The entire table chorused, **”TRASH PANDA!”** Crowley’s jaw dropped and Aziraphale lost it again.

“So why did Taz change but not you?” Ari asked next, “Ditr, did you get changed?”

Ditr shook her head, “I did not. Taz, what happened?”

“I, um, I, I might have asked… um,” Taz admitted.

“You faced God and asked for forgiveness **and** asked to be changed?” Ditr slammed her fist onto the table, “By _damn_ , that takes guts!”

“I, um, well, I guess so, um… sort of…”

Raz cocked an eyebrow at him, “Taz?”

“I panicked!” Taz blurted and covered his face with his hands, “I panicked and it just came out!”

“What came out?” Raz put his hand on Taz’s shoulder, “Taz, what did you say?”

Taz’s voice was muffled by his hands, “’Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.’” There was a moment of stunned silence.

Crowley blinked. “You mean… You got forgiven _by accident_?” Then the entire table roared with laughter. 

Raz shook his head with a grin, “That is so **you** , Taz.”

“I’m sorry…!”

“What on earth for?!”

Tawuse Melek wiped their eyes and reached across to touch Taz’s wrist, “Taz… Taz, it doesn’t matter **how** you asked. You asked, that’s all that matters.”

Raziel reached out to hug Taz hard, “Taz, you are such a goofball!”

“I know, I can’t help it!”

* * * *

“ _’And I try’_ ”

“Very trying, yes.”

“ _’Oh my God do I try! I try all the time!’_ ”

“Please stop.”

“ _’In this institution! And I pray… Oh my God do I pray!’_ ”

“He doesn’t mean that!”

“ _’I pray every single day! For re-vo-loo-shuHUNNNN!’_ ”

“Don’t listen to him, please! He’s had rather a lot to drink!”

“You’re no fun, Angel.”

“That’s not what you said when I sang _Rock’n’Roll Dreams Come True_ for our demon friends.”

“Yeah alright, point. …Why aren’t we moving?”

“Because your Bentley is smarter than you are and won’t let you drive it drunk.”

“’M not **thaaaat** drunk…”

“My dear, I believe the vernacular term for your current state is ‘sozzled.’ Now sober up and take us home, please.”

“Alright, alright…”

“…You didn’t tell me you had been made Emissary.”

“Well, no… Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, surprise accomplished! I’m overjoyed, my dearest serpent.”

“Home, Angel?”

“Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yitten Star  
> Oh [it's real alright](https://earthsky.org/space/black-hole-hurls-star-out-of-milky-way). And - once I stopped laughing - the first thing I thought of was 'you just know that's one of Crowley's cock-ups' XD
> 
> Trash Panda  
> A raccoon.


	28. To Hell And Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of snakeskin boots thunked onto the desk, one after the other. Beelzebub peered through their fingers and groaned. The boots were attached to very long legs in tight black trousers that were part of a tight black suit accented with hints of red. He wore a peacock tail feather braided into his long wavy auburn hair and a wide smile beneath his unnecessary sunglasses. "Hi," Crowley purred.

Beelzebub signed their sigil to yet another document then pushed the pile of paperwork aside and put their face in their hands. With Dagon gone, the paperwork wasn't getting any easier either. Not that it ever was..... Dagon was simply excellent at turning records keeping into a form of torture but privately, the Prince of Hell hoped that Dagon's replacement might be a tad better at the actual records _management_ part. That, at least, would be answered today - they were told the emissary of the World Angel would be arriving with the replacement, so that would be **one** stress dealt with... 

A pair of snakeskin boots thunked onto their desk, one after the other. Beelzebub peered through their fingers and groaned. The boots were attached to very long legs in tight black trousers that were part of a tight black suit accented with hints of red. He wore a peacock tail feather braided into his long wavy auburn hair and a wide smile beneath his unnecessary sunglasses. "Hi," Crowley purred.

Beelzebub took their hands away from their face with a heavy sigh, "I should have known it'd be you." They narrowed their eyes, "How long?"

Crowley smirked, "Long enough."

"I suppose that explains a lot. I'd heard rumours that the Peacock Lord's agents had special abilities."

"Now you know," Crowley said lightly, “My turn - How come you’re the only one who remembered who they are?”

Beelzebub chewed their lips for several moments. They owed Crowley nothing but… “I’m the second Emanation,” they said finally.

Crowley’s eyebrows rose over his sunglasses, “Ohhhhh…! That list that Aziraphale had listed Dardael as the second created but the Dardael are another angelic clade, so I wondered what that was about. Huh.” He tipped his head back, “So they were, what, big sibling sort of thing?”

Beelzebub pressed their lips together and nodded, “Mm-hmm.”

Crowley’s face split into a grin, “Oh no…! Oh, I can picture it…! They were the one who put the frogs on your pillow and short-sheeted your bed and pushed you down the stairs to see if you’d actually bounce, weren’t they.”

“Something like that,” Beelzebub admitted.

Crowley threw his head back and laughed, “Oh, that’s wonderful! Now why were you so insistent on not getting involved? I could tell Hastur was chomping at the bit.”

“Terms of the agreement,” Beelzebub replied, “There was a time long ago that we retrieved some wayward demons who bore the Peacock Lord’s mark.”

Crowley looked thoughtful, “Hm, might have been Penanggalan, Namtar, or maybe Endymion, they’ve been with us the longest. Didn’t sit too well with Their Bitchiness, I take it?”

Beelzebub shook their head, “The devastation was terrible. That thing is a monster. You saw what they can do.”

“Oh yeah,” Crowley said seriously. He remembered the Rainbow Serpent’s swollen shadow all too well.

“They carved through our ranks single-handedly and took back their people. Forced our lord Lucifer to agree, anyone bearing the Peacock Angel’s stigmata, we were to leave them alone. Demon, angel, human - it didn’t matter - they’re not ours to retrieve, tempt, or meddle with in any way.”

Crowley smiled, “Ahh, _that’s_ what tipped you off!”

“How could he not know his own twin?!”

“Well, those guys did try to bury their existence pretty hard but yeahhhhh you’d think he’d remember having a twin, that’s kind of hard to forget.”

Beelzebub sat back with their arms crossed over their chest. "That audience… Was that you?" they asked finally. Crowley smirked. "Why?"

Crowley touched his forehead and let the Kiss manifest its burning disc. "Condition of forgiveness."

"His? But..."

"Not Theirs. Mine."

Beelzebub stared at him, puzzled. "Why would you do that?" _After what we did to you..._

"You get a chance to explain the first time?"

"Of course not."

"No. _Of course not._ " Crowley sat back and his smirk was cuttingly pointed.

Beelzebub looked away, remembering how Crowley and his angel friend had gazed at each other, how Crowley had held the angel while he'd restrained the Lord Azazel in his lariat. "It wouldn't have made a difference if you had explained. That lot, they don't understand about that sort of thing."

"And you do?"

Beelzebub looked back. That moment when they realised _why_ Crowley had turned his back on Hell. They sighed, "What I think doesn't always matter. I'm not always in charge."

"Yeah," Crowley said with just a trace of sympathy. He tipped his head and raised his eyebrows above the level of his sunglasses, "Except, now you are. How'd that go, anyways?"

"What, coming back with the news that we've been serving an impostor all this time and our real Lord abandoned us thousands of years ago? How do you think that went?"

Crowley grinned, "Much left of him?"

"They're **still** rioting! You’d think they’d _realise_ but no! They’re angry about the disloyalty! **Loyalty!** That’s a **virtue!** ”

Crowley grinned wider, “I’ve always said, they’re not exactly long on brains.”

Beelzebub scraped their hand down their face, “That should have been a huge win for Hell but it doesn’t feel like one.”

Crowley chewed his lip for a few moments. “Because it wasn’t one,” he said finally, “Five thousand years and sure, he corrupted Heaven and through them, humanity, but what’d it do for _you?_ That was a win for him, not for his side, not for Hell. _You’re_ just left overcrowded, overworked, and overlooked.”

Beelzebub nodded slowly, bitterly. “It'll be ages before it all calms down again," they sighed.

"Mmm. Same old same-old, then."

"Don't start." 

"Gotta start somewhere," Crowley grinned.

"Yes," Beelzebub pushed their hands through their hair with another sigh, "I'm told you were bringing Dagon's replacement?"

Crowley snapped his fingers at the door and beckoned. Penny stepped into the office, standing out strongly against the drab surroundings in a black shalwar kameez suit embroidered with copper and cyan, with a startling peacock blue dupatta draped over her shoulder. "This is Penanggalan," Crowley said, "She's been working with Their Bitchiness for a few thousand years and helped build the culture that our team functions under."

Penny bowed, "My speciality is change management and I have education in records and documentation. One of my colleagues was a document clerk under Dagon. I am familiar with the current system and its areas for improvement. It will be a pleasure to work with you."

Beelzebub stared at her. "I don't think anyone's ever said that before," they said but extended a hand to invite her to sit. "This **is** Hell," they said, "I don't know if you remember."

"Yes, my colleague joined us on the verge of discorporating after a performance review," Penny said in a dry voice, "I KO'd an Archangel. Michael."

"I remember," Beelzebub nodded.

"I will need your support to change the culture around performance reviews," Penny continued, "We are already damned, there is no need for us to continue punishing each other."

"That is one of the changes I agreed to make," Beelzebub nodded slowly. Reluctantly, they admitted, "As well as to address the overcrowding problem. I could use some help with that."

Crowley took his feet off the desk and sat forward, his expression changing from smug to eager interest, "That's what we do. What do you need?"

Beelzebub spread their hands helplessly, "Ideas?"

Crowley glanced at Penny, "Topside is currently big on recycling... Purgatory, that was a thing, wasn't it? What happened to that?"

Beelzebub frowned thoughtfully, "Mmm, I believe that was discontinued and folded into Hell. Nobody could figure out how long it was supposed to last or what we were supposed to do with them afterward. We only knew it was supposed to be 'temporary Hell' but nobody really knew what that meant."

Crowley shrugged, "Well? You're the boss now, you get to decide. Is that what those ice hells and whatnot were for?"

"Yes. Haven't thought of those in ages."

"We can determine the retention periods according to the weight of the sins," Penny suggested, "Then determine final disposition at the end of retention, whether to discharge to recycling or to Hell or to Heaven."

"Heaven?!"

"Yeahhhhh, Heaven's got a big problem with that loophole," Crowley said, "Raphael wants to arrange a meeting later to discuss that."

Beelzebub nodded, "Yes, that loophole's created problems for us as well. Alright, I'll agree to that meeting. But now, about these retention periods, determining the weight of sin has always been the hardest part. We haven't really had a good way to do that. That's part of why the Files department was affiliated with the Temptations department."

Crowley nodded, "That'll be easier now that Aziraphale's got the Akashic Library. He and Raziel have some ideas for how to automate it and make it more readily searchable. If you and Raphael think about what you want and we'll bring them those ideas, that'll give them some direction of how to make it happen."

Beelzebub sat up, suddenly interested, "That'll give a much more accurate assessment as well. To be honest, the Akashic Library has been missing for so long, we didn't think it actually existed."

"We can start with the Library to assess the major and minor sins," Penny said, "We can determine the retentions and penances for those and then go from there."

"The penances definitely need an overhaul," Beelzebub sighed, "Currently we have comparatively minor sins subjected to the same tortures as murderers, when really all they should warrant is five years listening to Crowley singing that blasted goat song of his."

Crowley beamed, "I'd be happy to make a recording you can put on loop."

"In a room painted that strange hospital pink," Penny suggested with a grin, then she and Crowley laughed. Beelzebub found a pen and jotted down a few notes. Penny looked thoughtful and turned to Beelzebub, “What do you think of combining that as a staging area for triaging sins?”

Crowley blinked, “What, ‘hurry up and wait?’ Like Hell’s DMV?” 

Penny burst out laughing, “Just when you thought it was over, you get more of the same!”

“Well it **is** Hell!”

“It sounds like it has amusement potential as well,” Beelzebub said thoughtfully. They sighed and scrubbed a hand down their face, “Well… It’s a start. That’s more than I had before.”

* * * *

“He certainly kept me on my toes,” Aziraphale chuckled, wiggling.

Taz grinned and brushed more snow off the park bench. St. James Park was cold but Aziraphale said it was their usual rendez-vous point after they’d reported in. “Did you ever **actually** thwart him?”

“Oh yes, often!” Aziraphale smiled.

“Going to the theatre together is thwarting him, is it?”

“If he’s watching the theatre with me, he’s not out tempting the humans, is he? There you go, thwarted!” Aziraphale beamed as Taz laughed. “I **have** known him to go up against other angels and it has not gone well for them. He once thwarted **Gabriel** with his trickery!”

“Oh to have been a spider on the wall to see _that_ happen,” Taz grinned.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows jumped and he reached for his phone, “I keep forgetting about this!” He opened the reader app that pointed at the Akashic Library and tapped the appropriate record. Then they both fell about laughing.

“’Evil drinking den,’ what the heck even is an ‘evil drinking den?’” Taz wheezed. He lifted his sunglasses to wipe his eyes, “Oh wow…!”

“I’ve _never_ had to exaggerate about Crowley,” Aziraphale chuckled, “He truly is a wily one. But to answer your question properly, yes, I have had to thwart his wiles on many occasions. It took me a while to come up with something that could counter what he did with the M25 _but_ I figured out that I could use that Internet thing, which was fairly new at the time.”

Taz raised a sceptically impressed eyebrow, “You used the net to counter that Odegra thing? How? What did you come up with?”

Aziraphale beamed and wiggled again, “Cat memes!” Taz nearly fell off the bench.

“Are you able to pull up any of the Records?” Taz asked.

Aziraphale nodded, “Yes, I believe so.”

“Even… if that person has been destroyed?”

Aziraphale paused. He glanced down at his phone. Finally he nodded. “Yes, I think so,” he said softly, “I think I know what you’re asking for. But to do that, I would likely have to access your life from before.” Taz swallowed but nodded. Aziraphale thought for a moment, “Let’s try it like this.” He called up the list of Watchers then handed the phone to Taz, to find himself and find what he was looking for. 

She had a round face, warm russet skin, black hair in braids, black brows arching over her high forehead to meet over her dark, intelligent eyes. Her expression was warm and friendly and wise. By the standards of 19th Century Persia, she would have been thought beautiful. By modern standards, she would have been considered plain. But by the tears that filled Taz’s eyes and the smile on his face, no more perfect human had ever existed. “My wife. Her name was Isitir.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aziraphale said softly. 

Taz fiddled with the buttons on the phone and bounced excitedly when the image flickered. Then he pressed a few more buttons and his own phone chirped. He opened it to find the text message he’d sent himself, with the image of his wife attached. He bounced again and smiled at Aziraphale, “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

“What did you do?”

“I took a screengrab. Like this-” He opened another Record, the Book of Marduk of the Nephilim, and showed Aziraphale how to take another screengrab. “See? Now I have pictures of my son.”

“Take however many you want, dear fellow,” Aziraphale said softly.

“Not replacing me already, are you, Angel?”

Aziraphale’s face lit up to see Crowley swaggering towards them. And he was definitely swaggering, he looked as pleased with himself as the day he’d sauntered out of a burning Bentley. “Crowley!” he smiled. He got to his feet and reached out to take his hands and kiss him in greeting. “Went well, I take it?” 

“Fan-tas-tic,” Crowley gloated, “Beelzebub’s expression was **perfect.** I couldn’t have asked for better! The only thing missing was Hastur. Hi Taz!”

“Hey, brother! Do you think Penny will be alright?”

“Yeah, I think so. I warned her about Hastur. But she punched Michael out cold, that’s gonna give her some serious street cred Downstairs. Even Beelzebub was impressed. I think she’ll be fine, she won Beelzebub over so she’ll have them backing her up.”

Aziraphale smiled, “That’s wonderful!”

“How was your meeting with Raphael?”

“It went well,” Aziraphale said, “She was quite understanding that I don’t wish to conduct business Upstairs.”

Crowley nodded sympathetically. He reached out to take Aziraphale’s hand briefly, “Tempt you to lunch?”

Aziraphale smiled his 500 watt smile. “Nuriel and Muriel are coming by before they go back to work this evening. I thought maybe we could take them and Taz ‘round to that splendid restaurant that does the wonderful borscht and sauerbraten?”

Crowley thought for a moment and then smiled. “Sounds good. Taz, what do you think?”

“Have you ever seen _Alien_?” Taz asked.

Crowley frowned, “Yeah? Why?”

“It’s one of Nuriel’s favourite movies.”

Crowley’s face abruptly split into a wide grin and his hands immediately flew to his chest and started unbuttoning his shirt, “I know exactly what you’re thinking! Get in!”

Aziraphale was seated on the park bench with Crowley sprawled out beside him in his usual fashion, when he spotted Nuriel and Muriel approaching. He waved. 

“Professor Honeycakes! Crowley!”

“Hello, my dears!”

“Yo bitches,” Crowley grinned, “Don’t mind me, I’m a little under the weather today.”

“Oh no, what’s wrong?” Muriel said, immediately concerned. 

“You do look a little bloated,” Nuriel added.

“Stomach just doesn’t feel right today, that’s all,” Crowley said.

Immediately his shirt began to writhe and Crowley groaned, clutching the sudden lump that appeared and tried to punch its way out. Nuriel looked horrified for all of five seconds before clapping their hand over their mouth and screaming with laughter. Muriel looked confused for a moment then also burst out laughing. Then Taz burst out of Crowley’s shirt and all three angels fell about in hysterics. Even some human passers-by were laughing.

“Taz, you brat!” Nuriel gasped.

“Hi brothers!” Taz wiggled his ferret whiskers at them, eyes glittering with mischief. He bounced out of Crowley’s shirt, glanced around, and changed back to his human form, grinning widely.

“That was perfect!” Crowley laughed as he buttoned his shirt.

“You guys are horrible,” Muriel wheezed. Aziraphale wiped his eyes and caught his breath. 

The group started to walk out of the park towards the street. “So where are we going?” Muriel asked.

“We wanted to take you for lunch before you went home. Would that be alright? It’s quite close by,” Aziraphale smiled, “Just three blocks that way and another block down. They do absolutely wonderful pierogi!”

Muriel stopped and turned to Nuriel, “What do you think? I know we wanted to get back to the kids but…”

Aziraphale blinked, “You have children?”

“That’s our work!” Nuriel grinned, “We adopt older children and bring them up and give them whatever education they need. We’ve been doing it for about two hundred years now.”

“We have a farm!” Muriel chimed in, “The kids love it!”

Aziraphale smiled, “That sounds wonderful!”

“We grow a lot of our own food and the kids all have their own garden plots.”

“And they can learn farming if they want!”

“There’s lots of space for them to snowshoe and do cross country skiing in the winter if they want to.”

“Sounds like a paradise,” Crowley huffed, impressed.

“For a lot of the kids we take in, they need it,” Nuriel said seriously, “Most of the older kids in the system, they haven’t had good experiences. They need space to breathe and they need real love in order to heal.”

Muriel nodded, “And we’ve got plenty of that!”

“ **And** Uncle Taz needs to come and visit because they miss him,” Nuriel grinned, “Taz is fantastic father figure to them.”

Taz shrugged modestly, “I’ve got experience.”

“So you take them in and they learn what it’s like to be loved and supported, and then they take that with them out into the world,” Aziraphale smiled, “That’s wonderful!” Crowley nodded, making a mental note.

Aziraphale opened the door to the restaurant and ushered them in. Once they were in and settled with drinks ordered, he started making suggestions for Taz, who shrugged and went along with them after glancing at Crowley. They started with borscht, Taz mashing up the vegetables until he had a texture he liked. 

“…And I am **delighted** that you’re pretty much exactly as Professor always said you were!” Muriel was saying to Crowley.

“I’m surprised he talked about me that much,” Crowley murmured, watching Aziraphale. 

“Oh goodness yes,” said Nuriel, “You were primary illustration model for our lessons on tempting and how to tell if we were up against a skilled tempter or an amateur.”

“And trickery. I would have been blind-sided a couple of times if it weren’t for _that_ module!” Muriel added fervently.

Nuriel nodded, “And it’s the whole reason we survived Amon.”

Taz blinked, “Eh? What?”

“ _Amon?_ ” Crowley said, incredulous, “Amon’s a member of the Dark Council! You went up against a _Marquis of Hell?_ ”

“ **And won,** ” Nuriel said. 

“Although by ‘won,’ we mean we got away and weren’t discorporated,” Muriel added conscientiously, “Though we **did** thwart him! …mostly.”

Aziraphale tipped his head with eager interest, “So what did you take from my lessons that helped you in that situation?”

“Well, first and foremost, show some bloody respect!” Nuriel said, to laughter. 

Muriel shook her head, “We’re not kidding, Professor! All our other teachers advised us students to just walk up and smite, not even give the demons the time of day! And they do! And a lot of them came back discorporated or badly injured because it never occurred to them that the demons might smite back!”

“Yeah, the ones who never learned to suss out their adversary, they tended not to fare very well. They got by more by luck than anything else.”

“Be polite, try to suss out what they’re there to do…”

“And all those lessons on how the Serpent of Eden could talk his way around situations - sorry Crowley - but I mean, when we realized what we were up against, we realized _we_ could talk around too, so those lessons in trickery served us as well.”

“We… basically we engaged his vanity and then chatted him up until his window of opportunity had passed and it wasn’t worth it to him anymore,” Muriel admitted.

“Sounds thwarted to me,” Taz grinned.

Crowley arched a sceptical eyebrow, “And no one was hurt? It’s just that Amon has a tendency to be a loose cannon if things don’t go his way.”

But Nuriel shook their head, “To be honest, I think he was too embarrassed. We blathered like enthralled ditzes and just kept him talking.”

Aziraphale turned his 1000-watt smile on them, “I’m very proud of both of you.”

“And then that smirking bitch sacked him,” Crowley shook his head.

Muriel nodded, “Most of us who had Professor Honeycakes as our instructor, once we got in the field and could see how his lessons applied, we tended to fare a lot better.”

“And we knew exactly what to do if we ever encountered the Serpent of Eden,” Nuriel smirked wisely. “Send for Aziraphale!” they and Muriel chorused. Crowley laughed. 

As they progressed through their lunch, Crowley was watching Taz almost as much as he was watching Aziraphale. “This is really good, Professor,” Muriel said over a plate of sauerbraten, “Taz, what do you think?”

Taz nodded, “Texture’s a bit of getting used to but I like the taste. I liked the soup but this is good.” 

Aziraphale smiled gently and Crowley’s heart just about melted then and there. Aziraphale had chosen a menu that would give the former spider demon the same taste experience as everyone else, easing him into more mammalian dining in an inclusive way that wouldn’t make him feel singled out — _Nice_ didn’t begin to describe Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Renovation of Hell  
> One legend of Melek Taus says that, after Falling, [Melek Taus wept enough tears to extinguish the fires of Hell.](http://www.yezidisinternational.org/abouttheyezidipeople/religion/) With Hell extinguished, Melek Taus transformed it into a place of purification, instigating reincarnation until the soul is ready to go to Heaven. The Hell of _Good Omens_ had no fire but leaky ceilings and an awful lot of moisture...


	29. Sweet Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you think, Angel?” 
> 
> Crowley sounded slightly hesitant and Aziraphale looked at him closely. What he saw was how _relaxed_ Crowley looked, here. He was comfortable here in a way that he never seemed to be in his Mayfair flat, as comfortable here as he was in Aziraphale’s bookshop. He looked _at home._ And as much as Aziraphale loved his bookshop, he wasn’t going to take _that_ away from his beloved demon.

“Professor, you and Crowley must come visit our farm and meet our kids, they would love you,” Muriel was saying as they walked out of the restaurant.

“My dears, we would love to, what you’re doing sounds fascinating,” Aziraphale smiled. 

They were walking back to St. James Park, where they would go their separate ways. Nuriel looked up from their phone, “Ari’s on his way. He’ll take us back home. Professor, thank you so much for lunch! It’s been so wonderful to see you again!”

Crowley stopped dead, staring at the car that Taz was angling towards. “What is _that?_ ”

Taz looked at it then back at Crowley, “My car?”

_’That’_ was a sleek sedan, midnight blue, with a blunt nose that looked like someone had forgotten to install the grille. “What happened to the Mini?”

Taz snorted derisively, “Minis are for demons who crawled half-dead out of Hell. Demons who have the stones to stand up and face God Himself and ask for forgiveness drive… _the Tazla!_ ”

Crowley wore his best Thoroughly Unimpressed sneer. “You bought it for the pun, didn’t you.”

“…Maybe?” Taz smirked, “Orrrrrr maybe I bought it to piss you off.”

Crowley mock-snarled at him. “Seriously though, why a Tesla?”

“You ever driven in California?”

Crowley paused. Then he shrugged, “Okay fair point.”

Taz tilted his head at him, “What do you think? Want to go for a ride, see what it can do?”

“Yeah, alright,” Crowley smiled. He looked back at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale shooed his hand at him, “You go ahead, my dear. Ari is picking up Muriel and Nuriel soon, I’ll stay with them until he arrives and then head back to the bookshop.” He smiled brightly at Taz, who grinned back.

Satisfied, Crowley followed Taz to the Tazla and got in, peering with interest at the tablet it used in place of an instrument panel. “So what can it do?”

“Zero to sixty in six seconds,” Taz replied, starting the car and tapping the instrument panel, “I’ll show you once we get out on the highway.” 

“It’s electric, right?”

“As your Bentley was to the 20th century, so this Tesla is to the 21st, pretty much.”

Crowley shrugged and nodded, conceding that point. “Where are we going?”

“Raffy’s farm. I understand she’s leaving it to you two, so I thought you’d like to see it.”

“Devil’s Dyke, right? South Downs? That’ll be a good run.”

The Tazla wove in and out of traffic on its way out of London. “To be honest, I didn’t think Aziraphale would like it,” Taz said, “He seems so settled in the bookshop and it’s such a locus and a powerhouse. I just can’t see him wanting to pull up all of that and relocate to somewhere as rural as the Downs.”

“Me neither,” Crowley admitted, “But he does like to get out now and then. He’ll like it as a holiday home.”

“I like him,” said Taz, “His favourite word seems to be ‘wily.’” Crowley snorted and laughed. “He likes talking about you as much as you like talking about him. It’s nice to hear that again.”

Crowley was silent for a few moments, then looked at Taz, “You had a wife?”

“Isitir, yes.” Taz reached into his pocket for his phone, “Aziraphale let me see her Records and take screengrabs so now I have pictures of her and Marduk, our son.”

Crowley obediently scrolled through the images of Taz’s family. “I’m sorry.”

Taz shrugged, “For all the angels go on about being ‘beings of love’ and ‘able to sense love’, damn few of them have ever _been in_ love. They just don’t know. Muriel and Nuriel come the closest, with their kids but that’s all. **You** know, you and Aziraphale.”

Crowley nodded silently, not knowing how to respond to that. He bit his lip a few times before asking, “Do you ever regret it?”

“No,” Taz said instantly, “Not at all, not even with what happened. The only thing I regret is falling for the old ‘come with us and we won’t harm your family’ stunt.” Behind his sunglasses, Crowley winced. 

London faded out (as much as London can) and the street became the motorway. Once it was clear enough to do so, Taz brought the car to a stop then miracled the way clear. Then he floored the Tazla, making Crowley laugh with delight as the car took six seconds to reach sixty miles per hour. “What’s your usual cruising speed, brother?” Taz grinned. 

“Ninety!” The Tazla sped up to ninety. Crowley laughed again. “This thing is **quiet!** ”

“Yeah!”

“Seriously, are you actually giving up the Mini?”

“Of course not!” Taz grinned, “This is just for California and the like. I found someone to take care of the Mini.”

“Oh, good.”

“What do you want to listen to? You like Queen, right?”

“To be honest, I could do with a break from it. It’s the Bentley that likes Queen so much, it won’t play anything else.”

“Eh?”

“I’m serious! For forty years now, any tape or CD that I leave in the Bentley for a fortnight gets turned into Queen. Can’t get away from it.”

“Hmm.” Taz opened the glove box. He took out a USB stick and handed it to Crowley.

“What’s this?”

“Just a bunch of music MP3s.”

“I’d have to upgrade the sound system in the Bentley to play from USB,” Crowley said doubtfully.

“You don’t have to play it, just leave it. I’m curious to see what’ll happen to it.”

“I can’t guarantee that it’ll stay what it is now.”

“That’s why I’m curious.”

They were approaching the town of Crawley. Taz stared at the sign then stared at Crowley, who looked guilty, “Uhhh, yeah, uh… long story behind that.”

“Is this one that I’m going to hear about or one that I’m going to bribe Aziraphale to show me on the Records?”

“Prrrrrobably the latter, yeah,” Crowley admitted, “That was one of the times when we were both assigned to the same place for what was essentially the same mission, so we were just cancelling each other out. That was… Fifth Century? Something like that.”

“Have you been here for that long?”

“Longer than that, on and off, yeah,” Crowley nodded, “Here and most of northern Europe. Take a look at the mythologies, you’ll find us there. You’ll find us everywhere, if you look hard enough.”

“Both of you?”

“Yeah. They kept sending us both off on crap assignments, quite often they’d overlap. Or they’d send him on a crap mission and I’d tag along to find some mischief to get into. Or they’d send me on a crap mission and **he’d** tag along to thwart me.”

“You were keeping each other company through crap missions, is what I’m hearing.”

“Shh! …Yeah pretty much.”

“That’s adorable.” Taz turned onto the road for Devil’s Dyke. “That was a good lunch. Thanks for that. He did that deliberately, didn’t he?”

“Yes. And don’t think I didn’t notice you taking all those pictures.”

“They’re going on my bathroom mirror,” Taz smirked. 

“Why?”

“So every time I see **this** ,” Taz indicated the scar that ran down the middle of his face, “I’ll remember **why**.”

“Why?” Crowley said softly, “What _were_ you thinking, Taz?”

“I tried to protect Isitir and Marduk,” Taz said just as softly, “I failed them. I fell for their trick and I Fell for it and they were destroyed. You and Aziraphale, I **get** that. You guys are **right** for each other. I get that. You’re both worth fighting for. I wasn’t going to fail you.”

“You didn’t Fall because of your wife,” Crowley whispered, “Remember Gadreel?”

Taz slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “ **That’s** who he reminded me of!” he exclaimed, “Sandalphon! I kept thinking he looked familiar, like I knew him from somewhere. He looked an awful lot like Gadry!”

“He stole Gadreel’s face,” Crowley nodded, “That’s the real reason why we Fell, all of us.”

Taz curled his lip doubtfully, “Shemyaza and Yeqon…”

“Gave him the excuse he could spin, yeah,” Crowley nodded again.

“And you…”

“How dare I question the Almighty?” Crowley said scornfully, then he smiled sadly.

“ **Fuck!** ”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

The Tazla turned down a lane towards an old cottage with greenhouses and trees. “I saw Ramiel,” Taz said, “While you taking Penny down to Hell and Raffy was talking to Aziraphale. I guess he must have found out from Raz. He came down to congratulate me.”

Crowley looked at him, “What’d you say?”

“I said ‘thank you,’” Taz chewed his lip for a moment, “’Now fuck off.’”

Crowley grinned wolfishly, “Good for you. That’s more than he deserved.”

“Me being Fallen didn’t stop Muriel and Nuriel from talking to me like I’m still a person. It didn’t stop Raffy from healing me. It didn’t stop Raz. It certainly didn’t stop Aziraphale from caring about you.”

“No, it didn’t,” Crowley agreed in a quiet voice. He looked at Taz again as the Tazla slowed, nearing the cottage, “I don’t think Ramiel ever really respected you, even before you Fell.”

“No, you’re right. Twins are supposed to be like Muriel and Nuriel, we’re supposed to support each other, but Ramiel was always embarrassed by me, couldn’t wait to pawn me off. I was effectively dead to him and now I’m only worth talking to now that I’m Forgiven?” Taz snorted, “I think he expected me to fawn all over him for this chance to be in his good graces again.” He looked at Crowley and grinned as the Tazla rolled to a stop.

Crowley grinned back, “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get over it. It just reinforces who my real brothers are.”

They got out and Crowley looked around. The cottage looked small and cosy, surrounded by trees, with a steeply pitched roof, a patio garden and a garden behind, both currently bedded with snow. It _looked_ like somewhere Heaven’s healer would reside. It looked like a fairy godmother’s home. 

Taz opened the door. Inside, the cottage looked snug and well-appointed, decorated in warm colours, with warm wood on the ceilings, and smelled warmly of spices. It received a surprising amount of natural light and there was plenty of room for Crowley’s plants… He felt something within himself relax - probably the Archangel’s influence, that, but… _Aziraphale’s going to love this._

“There’s walking trails and such.”

“Yeah, I remember reading about them a while back.” _Ambling down the paths with his Angel, listening to him chatter, watching him talking with his hands_

The kitchen was open and well-appointed, with wooden cabinets and modern appliances. _A full English for his Angel, to watch him consume with as much relish as if they were dining at the Ritz_ On the kitchen table was a letter, some documents, and a couple of jars. Crowley picked up the documents and scanned them. “Oh… She’s already signed it over to us?” Crowley looked at the jars and **grinned.** , “Oh! ‘CBD Coffee Cake, Gabriel’s Therapeutics,’ must be one of Aziraphale’s! Oh, I’ve got to try this one!”

Taz grinned too, “I’ll get the grinder and vapourizers. I know where she keeps them.”

They toured the greenhouses and the grounds, as much as they were able in the snow. “Hell’s undergoing renovations,” Crowley said. Taz nodded. “They’re looking into recycling,” Crowley hesitated, “Did you… in Hell, were you ever able to find out if…”

Taz shook his head. “They weren’t there. Their souls were destroyed by hellfire. They’re gone.”

Crowley winced but nodded - he’d half expected something like that. “I spent as much time avoiding Hell as I could,” he said softly, “If I’d known you were there, I would have gotten you out.”

Taz took a deep draw and held it for a moment, then exhaled slowly. “See, I look at it differently,” he said, “I got _myself_ out of Hell. Maybe it was only seventeen years ago but I did it. I got out. But I came up next to the Peacock Angel’s party and they took me in immediately, so I got free of Hell’s work, too. You didn’t get that, though, you got out of Hell but you were still serving them. But you’re free now.” He stopped and turned to face Crowley, “See, I see it as returning the favour. You welcomed me into the Watchers. You taught me how to make stars and nebulae and black holes and you were the first to believe I was someone worthwhile. Everything I became is because of you. Isitir, my family, even my current career is because of you. But now you’re free, you’re with us now and **I** got to welcome **you**. **I** got to welcome **you** into the best phase of **your** life.”

Crowley couldn’t look away. Neither could he stop the tears that were rolling down his face. 

Taz reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in colourful paper. “I got you a present,” he said, “It’s for your Bentley.”

Crowley unwrapped it to find two small square devices with buttons on them. The box showed pictures of the devices mounted on the inside of the car doors, projecting their images onto the ground when the doors were opened. He clicked one and was surprised to see it project the image of a snake. He looked up at Taz, silent. 

Taz closed his hands over Crowley’s, “You’ve earned some cute, too.” He shook his head, answering Crowley’s silent question. “Just be happy, okay? Then this-” he tapped the scar on his face, “Will be worthwhile. And it better be, because I’m gonna have a heck of a time explaining it to my colleagues.” 

Crowley took off his sunglasses to wipe his eyes. “Take a page from Jimmy Doohan? Different story every time you’re asked?”

“Horrible accident with a lawn mower? Tripped over a chain saw? Really **bad** paper cut?” They laughed. Taz leaned back and smiled, “I should get going. I’ve arranged a pick-up for you, so you can hang around and explore the place a bit if you want to.”

“Alright.” Crowley put the door lights into his pockets and walked Taz back to his car. “How are you getting this thing back to California?”

Taz grinned widely, “You ever see _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_?”

“Yeah, I like that movie. Oh no…!”

“Yup!” Taz beamed and snapped to the left.

Crowley frowned, “Aziraphale snapped left too and so did Raz. I thought that was the angels’ thing?”

“Oh, that’s where your miracle source draws from. What happens when you do it?”

“Nothing,” Crowley shrugged, “Snap right, miracle city.”

“Then you’re tapped in through the Inspiration stream. I’m tapped in through the Knowledge stream, same as Razzy. Makes sense that Aziraphale would tap in through Knowledge as well.”

“Huh!” Crowley said, intrigued, “Well, as long as it works. And as long as Aziraphale isn’t hampered any more.”

Taz opened the door of the Tazla and leaned on it, tilting his head, “It’s going to be fun working with you again.”

Crowley gazed at him then wordlessly reached out. They hugged for a long time. Finally they pulled back and kissed each other’s cheeks. Then Taz got into the car. 

The Tazla turned back up the lane. Slowly, barely visible in the fading light, black wings edged with vermilion spread out from beneath the car. Crowley grinned and shook his head. The Tazla sped up and started to lift. Crowley waved as the Tazla rose up and climbed into the sky. Then in a burst of light, it streaked across the sky like a meteor and was gone. 

Crowley put his arm down, still smiling. Then he turned back to the cottage and walked through the garden. He rested a hand on one of the trees that sheltered the house - an apple tree. He smiled and carried on to the nearer greenhouse. 

Inside it was humid and warm. Crowley let the door close behind him and paused to breathe in the warm moist air, feeling himself relax even more. The plants had been warned of his arrival, though Raphael did ask him not to yell at them. But the plants were lush and fragrant, leaning towards him as he inspected them. No signs of mould, not a single brown spot, large flower heads - he didn’t think they’d need yelling at, frankly. The tomatoes, aubergines, and other vegetables that Raphael had been growing looked just as healthy. He passed his hand over them as he passed, bending to inspect the ID labels on each plant. 

Behind him, a bushy indica burst into flames. Crowley groaned and turned around, “Again? Six thousand years and You don’t talk to anybody and now this? Do You even know what You’re possessing?”

YES.

“The best part is, that one’s called God’s Bud.”

WE KNOW, THAT’S WHY WE CHOSE IT.

Crowley burst out laughing. “Alright, what do You want?”

CROWLEY THE FORGIVEN, WE HAVE COMPLETED THE TASK THOU HAST REQUESTED. …WELL, NEARLY COMPLETE, TEN MILLION IS A LOT OF DEMONS

And here it was. Crowley raked a hand through his hair and thought about putting his sunglasses back on but decided against it. “Yeah. Heard Your talk with Beelzebub went well. And Dagon, now **there’s** a surprise!”

SHE WILL BE PRESENT DURING THE UPCOMING SUMMITS

“Yeah, not a problem, I can work with that,” Crowley said dismissively.

CANST THOU WORK WITH US?

Crowley fell silent, thinking of Aziraphale. Finally he blew out a breath and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah. I can do that.”

The mark of the Kiss on his forehead burned. 

Crowley hesitated then finally asked a question that had been pressing on his mind for quite a while. “How… How badly did we mess up Warlock?”

DIDST THOU GIVEST HIM THY SUNGLASSES?

“Yeah…?”

THEN THOU HAST COMPLETED THY TASK.

“Fuck the task, I’m worried about what we did to his mental health! We thought we were raising the Antichrist but he was just an ordinary kid!”

HE WAST BEING REARED IN AN ENVIRONMENT WHERE A GREAT DEAL OF WHAT IS EVIL IN OUR SIGHT HAS BEEN NORMALISED. WHAT DOST THOU THINK HE MIGHT HAVE BECOME HAD HE _NOT_ HAD THEE AND AZIRAPHALE GUIDING HIM?

Crowley winced. Yeah, he could imagine that all too well.

WARLOCK GREW UP WITH AN UNUSUALLY CLEAR UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT IS RIGHT FOR THE WRONG REASONS, DOING WRONG FOR THE RIGHT REASONS, AND BEING ONESELF AS HARD AS POSSIBLE. YOU DID WELL.

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. “So what about my sunglasses then?”

SINCE THE DEATH OF AGNES NUTTER THERE HAST BEEN NO SEER AS ACCURATE OR AS FORTHRIGHT, UNTIL NOW. 

“He’s a _prophet_?”

YOU COMPLETED YOUR TASKS WELL - KEEPING ATTENTION DEFLECTED FROM THE REAL ANTICHRIST AND PREPARING THE NEXT PROPHET FOR A WORLD UNWILLING TO RECEIVE HIM. THOU WORRIST FOR HIS MENTAL HEALTH YET BECAUSE OF YOU HE WILL TRUST HIMSELF AND THE VISIONS HE SEES.

The fire went out, leaving the bushy plant smoking but unharmed. Crowley reached out and patted it lightly, “Good job.” He raked his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. Aziraphale was right, though, he did feel… closure. He looked around, thought about going back to the cottage but that would mean leaving the warm, humid, reptile-friendly greenhouse and going back into the cold and snow, however briefly… _Oh well, guess I live here now_ … 

He caught sight of headlights turning into the lane and realised his ride must be arriving. _That’s it, then. Guess I have to go out after all,_ he thought. He shrugged and went back out, through the garden to the front of the cottage, wondering who was picking him up. _Oh **no!** No! Oh no no no!_ The coloured lights under the car flashed and changed in time with the music. _Noooo!_ The Mini rolled to a stop and the driver beamed up at him with a one-thousand watt smile. _”Aziraphale?!”_

“Hello!” Aziraphale said brightly, “Did you have a nice visit?”

“ **You’re** taking Taz’s Mini?! What for?” Crowley strode over to peer in, “You don’t even drive!”

“Taz has been teaching me!” Aziraphale’s grin was enough to light the car all by itself, even without the disco running lights.

Crowley went around the back of the Mini. The number plate read “2SASSY4U”. He sneered at it, then went to the passenger side window, “What for? I have a Bentley!”

“With which you regularly break the speed limit,” Aziraphale said primly. 

“Seriously, Angel?? Seriously??” Crowley opened the car door and winced at the car door lights that projected a Spider-Man logo onto the ground. “You’ll need to change those lights out,” he said as he got into the car. He slammed the door and stared at Aziraphale, “Seriously?? Angel, **why??** ”

Aziraphale patted his hands on the steering wheel and - impossibly - grinned even more, “It’s **cute!** ” 

Words could not describe the expression on Crowley’s face. Then he caught sight of Aziraphale’s phone, nestled in a phone cradle beside him. He scowled, “Are you recording this?!”

“Don’t be silly, of course not, I wouldn’t do that,” Aziraphale sniffed, “It’s live streaming.”

Crowley stared at the phone, aghast, “It’s _**what?!**_ ”

“You are the best trolling partner ever!” came Taz’s voice.

“Oh fffffffff…” Crowley rolled his head as Aziraphale and Taz burst into laughter. Crowley sneered, “It’s like I never left Hell. Anyways-” he looked at Aziraphale, “Angel, do you want to come in and see the place? I think you might like it.”

“You’ll love it, it’s ‘you’,” Taz said over the phone, “I’m coming up on a storm system so I’m outta here! Catch you later, brothers!”

“Mind how you go,” Aziraphale waved and cut the call, smiling fondly. Then he turned back to Crowley and grinned. And broke into giggles again. “Your face was perfect!”

“Seriously, Angel, you’re taking the Mini?”

“I **do** know how to drive,” Aziraphale sniffed, “I simply prefer not to. Of course not, Ari will be taking it back once we return to London.”

“So you just did this to prank me,” Crowley said sourly.

Aziraphale beamed, “Of course!”

They got out and Crowley led the way up to the cottage. He started describing the features of the place and by the time he reached the greenhouses, he was quite animated, especially when he was describing the walking trails. Aziraphale gazed at him, thinking it had been quite a while since he’d seen Crowley quite so bubbly about anything. _Crowley loves this place,_ he realized. 

And with good reason. He admired the greenhouses with their solar panels and lushly growing plants. He admired the windmill that provided additional power to the property. Then he walked into the cottage itself and inhaled deeply, “Oh…! She liked to cook! How lovely!”

“What do you think, Angel?” 

Crowley sounded slightly hesitant and Aziraphale looked at him closely. What he saw was how _relaxed_ Crowley looked, here. He was comfortable here in a way that he never seemed to be in his Mayfair flat, as comfortable here as he was in Aziraphale’s bookshop. He looked _at home._ And as much as Aziraphale loved his bookshop, he wasn’t going to take _that_ away from his beloved demon. “I think… the shop doesn’t **really** need to be open on Mondays, does it? Given that I already close it on Sundays and Tuesdays? Might as well close Mondays as well.” He looked over the documents that Raphael had left for them, then took out his pen and signed them. “And I think we should try that pub in the village.”

Crowley took the pen and added his signature. “Whatever you want, Angel.”

Aziraphale reached up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the snake tattoo in front of his ear. “What I _want_ ,” he said softly, “Is anything that makes my wily serpent glow like this.”

Crowley lifted an eyebrow, “I’m glowing?”

“With happiness,” Aziraphale confirmed, “I think you deserve that, after six thousand years.”

Crowley stepped closer to loop his arms around Aziraphale’s waist. He kissed him lightly then touched their foreheads together. “So do you, Angel.”


	30. The First Wednesday In April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You all ready for this summit, then?” Crowley lifted her face and tipped back to look at him. 
> 
> “I think so,” Aziraphale smiled, “It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
> 
> “Something like that,” Crowley smiled. She slid her hand into Aziraphale’s and together they left the bookshop and walked out to the Bentley.

It was a bright and sunny day. Crowley stood in front of the mirror, trying to decide on a look. It was the first Wednesday in April, the day the Peacock Angel would return. The day of the summit between Heaven, Hell, and the World. It was a big deal and the usual look just wasn’t cutting it. 

The jacket had to go. Maybe? Or something more formal? Slacks instead of the usual tight trousers, perhaps? Crowley shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair oh that was the problem. She shifted and her beard shadow vanished along with her adam’s apple, small breasts beneath her jacket and hips only slightly wider. That was better - she was feeling female today, that’s what it was. The suit fell into place after that, neatly tailored, black. Instead of a tie, a long crimson silk scarf tucked under the jacket collar, ends knotted. Yes, that worked. Much better. 

She braided a peacock feather into her hair. She was acting as Emissary today, best to advertise who she was representing. She pinned a copper and peacock ore brooch to her lapel and stepped back a bit more to survey the effect. Her usual sunglasses didn’t work with it so she replaced them with a slightly cats-eye pair. Yes, that’ll do. 

Movement caught her eye and she turned to see Aziraphale standing in the doorway, gazing at her adoringly. He’d gazed at her like that for thousands of years but had always been somewhat guarded - no longer. And as always, she felt her insides threatening to turn to mush. She glanced back at the mirror, disconcerted, “Alright?”

“Lovely,” Aziraphale said, coming over to touch her arm lightly, then her cheek, then her hair. She didn’t look much different and it always bemused Aziraphale how many humans still read her as male, even when she was wearing female-coded clothing. But then, there had been times when humans had read Aziraphale as female, despite that he had rarely changed his body’s appearance. “As always.” 

Crowley felt her insides turning to water and wanted nothing more than to shift into a snake and curl up around her Angel’s neck and shoulders and let him read to her. She had to content herself with being drawn into a close embrace and burying her nose in her Angel’s fluffy hair, inhaling his warm scent deeply and flicking her tongue to catch all the nuances. “Didn’t you wear patchouli cologne for a while?”

“Patchouli, myrrh, and musk, yes,” Aziraphale said, “While we were working for the Dowlings. Sandalphon could smell your essence, you see, and he was terribly close to recognising it as demonic. We were working together closely enough that I felt I should throw him off the scent, as it were.” Crowley snorted with laughter.

“You all ready for this summit, then?” Reluctantly she lifted her face and tipped back to look at him. 

Aziraphale looked the same as always. The only concession he had made to the occasion was the small peacock tail feather pinned to his lapel. He had shrunk Tawuse Melek’s celestial bow down into a brooch and now wore it on his jacket - whether promise or threat, Crowley couldn’t say, but it was effective. “I think so,” he smiled, “It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“Something like that,” Crowley smiled. She slid her hand into Aziraphale’s and together they left the bookshop and walked out to the Bentley.

The conference centre was as close to neutral ground as was possible. The Bentley parked and they went into the centre and into the empty conference room. “Are we the first ones?” Aziraphale wondered. 

Lightning struck, depositing the Archangel Raphael, resplendent in an elegant ocean blue grand boubou, her locs bound under a matching wrap, gold and copper cosmetics dusting her cheeks. Raziel stood next to her. A moment later, the ground crumbled open as the Prince of Hell, Beelzebub, rose. Crowley still thought the fly hat ruined an otherwise impressive outfit, it was just too silly. Another demon rose with them and Crowley’s eyebrows lifted in bemused surprise.

Without hesitation, Raphael strode over to clasp Beelzebub’s hands, “Sibling, it is good to see you again.”

Beelzebub stared at her, “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that before.”

“Well then I shall say it more often,” Raphael smiled. 

Aziraphale held up a carafe, “Tea?”

“Please,” Raphael replied, gliding over to kiss Aziraphale’s cheeks in greeting, then Crowley’s. “It is lovely to see you both again. Thank you both for joining us today.” Aziraphale poured the tea and distributed the cups. “How is the farm?”

Aziraphale smiled, “It’s lovely! Crowley’s so good with the plants and we both love the area. We enjoy walking to the pub in the village. Such a lovely little ramble.” He finished with a little wiggle, a sure sign that he was feeling comfortable with this Archangel.

Crowley leaned back and looked at Beelzebub, “How’s Penny?”

“Settling in well,” the Prince of Hell replied, “She has started her reforms on the Files department. There were a few skirmishes but nothing she couldn’t handle. She only needed back-up once. Once she brought in the personal music devices, most of the resistance stopped.”

“She plays her violin when things are going well,” the other demon supplied, “We hear it often, now.”

“Lord Amon,” Crowley acknowledged him, “Bit of a surprise to see you here. Didn’t think a member of the Dark Council would be too enthusiastic about this.”

Amon shifted uncomfortably. “Haven’t done much on the Council for a while, your eminence. Not since… I met some angels…”

Crowley smiled, “Two of them, twins? Talked to you? Treated you well?” Amon nodded. Crowley grinned wider.

“It made me think, a lot. Then I got that Audience and…” he spread his appendages helplessly, “When Beelzebub said we were renovating how we do things, I thought, maybe I can help.”

“Well, glad you could make it.”

“We’re nearly finished the staging area, thanks to him,” Beelzebub said.

“Staging area?” Raphael said, interested.

“Crowley had some wonderful ideas for alleviating Hell’s overcrowding problem and processing incoming souls,” Aziraphale smiled, “It gave me some ideas for how to tie in the Records and make them accessible for the people assessing the sins and virtues.”

Crowley nodded, “You’ve got that big empty foyer with the lifts. You could set up a counter and do the initial triage assessment right from there, send them up or down, and then Hell can do secondary assessment from their new staging area.”

“We could do with secondary assessment as well,” Raphael said thoughtfully. She looked annoyed. “That loophole has been one humongous backfire. We’ve got people Upstairs who frankly belong in Hell, but because of that loophole, they got admitted.”

“I believe I met a few of those,” Aziraphale sighed. He glanced at Crowley, “Might have possessed one during that time I was discorporated.”

Crowley grinned widely, “I looked that up online, that was **hilarious!** I’d love to see the look on that guy’s face when he gets to the counter and oh by the way, that loophole’s been closed!” Her grin turned wolfish.

Aziraphale bit his lips, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a grin. “Trap door?”

Crowley mimed yanking a big lever and shouted down at the floor, “’Bye bye! Have fun storming the castle!’”

“It could be like that… What did they call it, a ‘chick tract?’” They grinned at each other and chorused, “’Surprise! Welcome to Hell!’” Then they both nearly fell over laughing.

Raphael pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, “I shouldn’t like that idea nearly as much as I do.”

Aziraphale wiped his eyes, “I’m a terrible angel.”

“Big slide, they get to Hell and BING! - all these lights and bells go off,” Crowley continued, “’You’re the next contestant on… _This Is Your Eternity!_ ’” Aziraphale broke up laughing again.

Amon looked at Beelzebub, “Could be good for morale.” Beelzebub nodded and took out their notepad.

Raziel noticed, “Oh, should I scribe that? I’ll scribe that, hang on, then you’ll have a copy of the notes. I’ll send you the full notes as well as the minutes.” 

“Thank you, Raziel,” Raphael smiled. 

Raz set up his recorder and laptop and started typing. Then he paused, “Hey if you’re actually going to do that, I just had an idea.” He looked at Raphael, “Those people. What if we send _them_ to help Hell with the construction and stuff, tell them it’s a good-will gesture on behalf of Heaven.” He looked at Beelzebub, “What do you think? That’d get them out of our hair and doing the kind of work they frankly think themselves above.”

Beelzebub leaned back with a smug look, “And we have **lots** of continuing construction projects we would consent to accept Heaven’s assistance on.”

Raphael looked up at the ceiling with another wide grin, “I **really** shouldn’t like this as much as I do.”

“Likewise, we have many people whose sins are minor, not really worth our time yet they’re stuck with us,” Amon said.

“Or not really even sins, like those Watchers,” Beelzebub agreed, “Perhaps we can work out some sort of exchange.”

Raphael spread her hands with a kind smile, “We surely have work for such people. Painting snowflakes, perhaps, or helping with our own triage support. We would welcome Hell’s assistance in these matters.” Raz pressed his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh. Raphael continued, “And then when their tasks are finished, well, perhaps they can wait with us for their next assignment.”

“Hell’s a busy place,” Beelzebub said, “We might forget about them.”

They smiled at each other. 

* * * *

“It was just a joke,” Aziraphale said, behind his hands. He looked up and lamented, “And now all those poor people will be subjected to that! I only meant it as a joke!” He did not look the least bit sorry.

Neither did Crowley. “Only the ones who go marching in there thinking they’ve got a get-out-of-jail-free card,” she said, “The others will use the lifts like the rest of us.”

They were seated in a booth in Aziraphale’s favourite sushi restaurant, sharing a flask of sake and a platter of sashimi. The summit had gone better than expected, though chaotic, as first times often were. “I still think it’s a nasty prank to pull on the poor souls,” Aziraphale said, continuing to look not the slightest bit regretful.

“It’s _Hell_ , Angel, Nasty Pranks R Us,” Crowley chuckled, “Yeah, Beelzebub tends to be a bit literal, I’ve noticed that. Make a joke, they take it as a suggestion but honestly, Amon’s right, they haven’t **had** much entertainment, this is going to go over just great!”

“The Lord’s clarifications that should make the triage easier. It… is a relief that the loophole was never really intended to replace the original expectations.”

“Well then They should have been more specific,” Crowley smirked, “Alexander was a better rules lawyer than I am!”

“I thought you were very kind to Dagon, after she was told she could cross the first item off her list.”

Crowley shrugged. She had had a low conversation with the former Lord of the Files, during which Dagon had admitted some things that… while they didn’t make Crowley feel better, they did assuage a few hurts. “I just suggested she should talk to Ditr,” she shrugged again, “That’s all.”

“Well it was still very kind of you,” Aziraphale said. He finished another piece of tuna. “It’s hard to believe a few months ago they were all set to go to war with each other and now they’re drawing up trade agreements.”

“And they did that during small talk over tea, before the summit even got started!” Crowley grinned, “I always did wonder about that, how much authority Beelzebub really had.”

“And Raphael’s got incentive,” Aziraphale agreed.

Crowley knocked back the rest of her sake and put her cup down. “Home, Angel?”

Aziraphale immediately reached for his wallet. “Of course, my dear. It’s been quite a stressful time for you, hasn’t it?”

Crowley shrugged again, “Not as stressful as it could have been. I have you.”

“You do,” Aziraphale said. He paid the tab and put on his coat, “And I have a splendid mareschal foch at the bookshop that I’ve been saving.”

“Let’s go, then,” Crowley smiled, “You can read some more of that book to me.” Worth it, always worth it, to see Aziraphale’s thousand-watt smile.

It had started to rain while they were dining so Aziraphale put up his umbrella. It was tartan. He hadn’t had one when they entered the restaurant. “Not holy water this time,” he said and Crowley laughed. “I still can’t believe you weaponised Murphy’s Law,” he chuckled as they walked back to the shop. 

Crowley spread her hands, “Beelzebub was _right there_ , I saw an opportunity! Amon’s sending Murphy up to Taz tomorrow to develop the mission details. SpaceZ won’t know what hit them.”

“Wily serpent,” Aziraphale laughed, “And the best part is, I don’t have to thwart you!” He unlocked the door of the bookshop, “After you, my dear.” 

Crowley went straight for the couch and flopped down, then started trying to take the peacock feather from her hair. Aziraphale handed her the wine bottle and corkscrew and set two glasses down. “Let me help you with that, my dearest.” 

Crowley shrugged and sat up as Aziraphale found the comb. She uncorked the wine and poured it. Aziraphale sat next to her and started gently teasing the auburn strands of her hair apart, carefully unbraiding the feather. Crowley took off her sunglasses and closed her eyes, remembering other times when Aziraphale had combed and braided her hair. 

“Are you happy, my dear?”

She opened her eyes to look at him. She wore sunglasses because she knew her eyes betrayed too much, but she no longer had to hide how she felt about her Angel. “I’m with you,” she said simply, “It’s the same thing.”

Aziraphale’s lips spread into his soft candlelight smile and he pressed them lightly to her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. He got up to put the gramophone on and Schubert’s _Violin Concerto_ softly filled the room. He picked up his book and his wine and sat down in his chair with a contented sigh. Crowley looked at him for a moment, then got up and crossed the floor. He reached out and the woman-shaped occult entity became a snake-shaped occult entity, sliding up his arm and around his neck, settling the bulk of herself in his lap and tucking her head beneath his left ear. “It’s the same thing for me too, my dear old serpent,” Azirphale whispered. 

Crowley flicked her tongue. “I like this book, by the way. I like the Granny character.”

“She reminds me of you, to be quite frank. That’s why I chose the book.”

“The author’s one of our saints, right?”

“Yes. And in that light, it makes the next few chapters really quite interesting. I think you’ll appreciate them.” Aziraphale took a sip of wine then opened his book, “Let’s see, where were we… Ah yes. ‘Granny Weatherwax opened her eyes. There were flames roaring right in front of her. “Oh,” she said, “So be it, then…” “Ah. Feeling better, are we?” said Oats…’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is reading _Carpe Jugulum_ by Terry Pratchett. Apart from being a lovely story and the first appearance of the Nac Mac Feegle, it has some interesting thoughts on the nature of sin, holiness, and spirituality vs religion. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me on this romp. I had not expected it to get quite this long yet here we are at last. Two plots have hived off from this one and I'm going to let them stew a bit and see where they go. In the meantime, I'm going to write some crackfic. Thank you!


End file.
